AN 

INTRODUCTORY    COURSE    IN 
EXPOSITION 


BY 
FRANCES    M.   PERRY 

INSTRUCTOR   IN   ENGLISH   IN   WELLESLEY   COLLEGE 


NEW  YORK  . : .  CINCINNATI  • :  •  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN    BOOK    COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  1908,  BY 
FRANCES  M.   PERRY. 

ENTERED  AT  STATIONERS'  HALL,  LONDON 
EXPOSITION. 

W.  P.     I 


SOPHIE   CHANTAL   HART 


266929 


PREFACE 

EXPOSITION  is  admitted  to  be  the  most  generally 
used  form  of  discourse,  and  further,  to  be  that  form 
of  discourse  whose  successful  practice  requires  no 
special  aptitude,  as  do  description  and  narration. 
Moreover,  the  writing  of  exposition  has  been  found 
to  be  largely  conducive  to  the  development  of  keen 
observation,  deliberation,  sound  critical  judgment,  and 
clear  and  concise  expression.  For  these  reasons  it 
has  an  assured  place  in  every  high  school  or  college 
composition  course. 

In  practice,  expository  courses  often  fail  to  justify 
the  prevailing  estimate  of  the  value  of  exposition, 
not  because  exposition  has  been  too  highly  estimated, 
but  because  the  subject  has  been  presented  in  an 
unsystematized  manner  without  variety  or  movement. 
A  class  begins  a  course  in  exposition,  writing  three- 
page  themes  on  My  Favorite  Sport  and  Friendship, 
and  five  months  later  its  members  are  writing  eight- 
page  themes  on  My  Favorite  Sport  and  Friendship. 
The  advancement  of  individual  members  of  the  class 
is  even  less  appreciable  than  that  of  the  class  as  a 
whole.  They  have  only  an  empirical  knowledge  of 
what  exposition  is.  One  remembers  that  when  the 

5 


6  PREFACE 

instructor  was  presenting  the  subject  he  read  as  an 
example  of  exposition,  a  paper  on  How  to  Play 
Basket  Ball ;  accordingly  he  ventures  to  write  a 
theme  on  How  to  Play  Tennis.  That  is  successful, 
and  the  subject  of  his  next  theme  becomes  How  to 
Catch  Black  Bass  ;  this  is  followed  by  How  to  Sail  a 
Boat,  How  to  Break  a  Colt,  etc.  Another  student 
remembers  a  model  bit  of  exposition  about  Gray 
Squirrels  ;  he  tries  in  turn,  Butterflies,  Dogs,  Horses, 
Trees,  Orchids,  etc.  Another  remembers  that  the 
instructor  suggested  the  Fourth  of  Jttly  as  a  subject 
for  an  exposition,  and  writes  a  series  of  holiday 
themes :  Thanksgiving  Day,  Christmas,  New  Year's 
Day,  St.  Valentine's  Day,  etc.,  are  the  subjects  of  his 
successive  themes.  Still  another  has  grasped  the 
idea  that  literary  criticism  is  exposition  and  all  of 
his  "expository  themes "  are  summaries  of  novels. 
Something  like  this  is  pretty  sure  to  happen  in  a 
large  class  where  the  work  is  not  carefully  organized. 
My  purpose  in  preparing  this  text-book  is  to  pro- 
vide a  systematized  course  in  the  theory  and  practice 
of  expository  writing.  In  the  first  place,  the  student 
who  follows  this  course  should  have  a  clear  under- 
standing of  exposition  —  its  nature,  its  two  processes, 
definition  and  analysis;  its  three  functions,  imper- 
sonal presentation  or  transcript,  interpretation,  and 
interpretative  presentation ;  and  the  special  applica- 
tion of  exposition  in  literary  criticism.  In  the  second 
place,  he  should  have  gained  through  the  practice 
in  composition  required  by  the  course,  facility  in 


PREFACE  7 

writing  in  a  clear  and  interesting  way  the  various 
types  of  exposition. 

The  section  on  literary  criticism  may  seem  unneces- 
sary to  the  completeness  of  the  course,  but  it  is  de- 
manded by  the  widespread  interest  in  that  phase  of 
the  subject  and  by  the  general  need  of  progressive 
work  in  literary  criticism  in  place  of  the  fatuous 
repetition  of  summaries  of  stories  that  a  course  in 
literary  criticism  is  apt  to  degenerate  into  unless  the 
students  are  carefully  directed. 

The  method  used  is  direct  exposition  amply  reen- 
forced  by  examples  and  exercises.  The  illustrative 
matter  is  taken  from  many  and  varied  sources,  but 
much  of  it  is  necessarily  modern,  since  our  standard 
essayists,  when  examined  carefully  with  a  view  to 
their  availability  as  models  of  expository  style,  are 
surprisingly  often  found  to  be  quaint  or  mannered. 

The  book  is  intended  to  serve  as  a  thorough  intro- 
duction to  the  subject  of  exposition.  It  calls  for 
thoughtful,  earnest  work,  but,  it  is  hoped,  will 
reward  effort  with  pleasure  as  well  as  with  substan- 
tial gain.  It  is  suited  to  the  need  of  students  in  the 
final  years  of  secondary  schools  or  the  first  years  of 
college. 

The  selections  from  the  publications  of  Houghton, 
MifHin  and  Company  are  printed  by  permission  of, 
and  special  arrangement  with,  the  publishers. 

F.   M.   P. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    THE  NATURE  OF  EXPOSITION          .        .        „        .11 

II.    THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION      .        .        .        .31 

A.  Definition 33 

B.  Analysis 50 

I.    Preliminary  Analysis         ....  50 
•    2.    Manifestation   of  Analysis  in   Completed 

Work 64 

III.  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION      ....  77 

A.  Presentation 79 

B.  Interpretation 96 

C.  Interpretative  Presentation     .         .         .         .122 

IV.  A   SPECIAL   APPLICATION    OF   EXPOSITION.      LIT- 

ERARY CRITICISM 137 

A.  General  Requirements  of  Literary  Criticism    .  139 

B.  Criticism  of  a  Story 168 

C.   Criticism  of  an  Author  or  a  Collection  of  his 

Works  , 187 

INDEX 209 


THE  NATURE  OF  EXPOSITION 


THE   NATURE   OF   EXPOSITION 

OF  the  four  forms  of  discourse  usually  recognized 
by  rhetoricians,  —  narration,  description,  exposition, 
and  argumentation,  —  exposition  is  possibly  the  most 
familiar  to  all  of  us.  The  text-books  in  our  schools,  the 
sermons  in  our  churches,  the  editorials  in  our  news- 
papers, the  essays  in  our  magazines,  are  expository. 
Yet  few  of  us  could  tell  just  what  is  meant  by  expo- 
sition. The  common  impulse  would  be  to  say  expo- 
sition is  not  description,  narration,  or  argumentation. 
But  this  negative  definition  is  not  enough ;  we  must  - 
know  what  is  the  field,  the  purpose,  the  method,  of 
exposition.  Some  of  the  distinctions  given  in  the 
rhetorics  do  not  greatly  help  us  to  do  this. 

We  are  told  that  exposition  differs  from  description 
and  narration  in  the  subject-matter  with  which  it 
deals ;  that  exposition  deals  with  a  class  of  objects  / 
or  events,  while  description  and  narration  deal  with 
individual  objects  and  events.  But  a  little  considera- 
tion makes  us  question  this.  Take,  for  example, 
William  J.  Long's  description  of  the  moose  in  School 
of  the  Woods :  - 


"  Umquenawis,  the  mighty,  is  lord  of  the  woodland  .  .  . 
so  he  fears  nothing,  moving  through  the  big  woods  like  a 

13 


14  THE    NATURE  OF  EXPOSITION 

master ;  and  when  you  see  him  for  the  first  time  in  the  wil- 
derness pushing  his  stately,  silent  way  among  giant  trees  or 
plunging  like  a  great  engine  through  underbrush  and  over 
windfalls,  his  nose  up  to  try  the  wind,  his  broad  antlers  far 
back  on  his  mighty  shoulders,  while  the  dead  tree  that  op- 
poses him  cracks  and  crashes  down  before  his  rush,  and  the 
alders  beat  a  rattling,  snapping  tattoo  on  his  branching  horns, 
—  when  you  see  him  thus,  something  within  you  rises  up 
like  a  soldier  at  salute  and  says,  '  milord  the  moose  !  '  " 

This  passage  is  indubitably  descriptive,  picture-mak- 
ing, though  it  is  the  type  rather  than  an  individual 
that  is  presented.  The  following  treatment  of  an  in- 
dividual breakfast  plate  by  John  Ruskin  is,  on  the 
other  hand,  as  undeniably  exposition  :  — 

"I  have  here  in  my  hand  one  of  the  simplest  possible 
examples  of  the  union  of  the  graphic  and  constructive 
powers,  —  one  of  my  breakfast  plates.  Since  all  the  finely 
architectural  arts,  we  said,  began  in  the  shaping  of  the  cup 
and  the  platter,  we  will  begin,  ourselves,  with  the  platter. 

"  Why  has  it  been  made  round  ?  For  two  structural  rea- 
sons :  first,  that  the  greatest  holding  surface  may  be  gath- 
ered into  the  smallest  space ;  and  secondly,  that  in  being 
pushed  past  other  things  on  the  table,  it  may  come  into 
least  contact  with  them. 

"  Next,  why  has  it  a  rim  ?  For  two  other  structural  rea- 
sons :  first,  that  it  is  convenient  to  put  salt  or  mustard  upon ; 
but  secondly  and  chiefly,  that  the  plate  may  be  easily  laid 
hold  of.  The  rim  is  the  simplest  form  of  continuous  handle. 

"  Further,  to  keep  it  from  soiling  the  cloth,  it  will  be  wise 
to  put  this  ridge  beneath,  round  the  bottom ;  for  as  the  rirn 


THE   NATURE  OF  EXPOSITION  15 

is  the  simplest  possible  form  of  continuous  handle,  so  this 
is  the  simplest  form  of  continuous  leg.  .  .  . 

"Thus  far  our  art  has  been  strictly  utilitarian,  having 
respect  to  conditions  of  collision,  of  carriage,  and  of  support. 
But  now  on  the  surface  of  our  piece  of  pottery,  here  are 
various  bands  and  spots  of  color  which  are  presumably  set 
there  to  make  it  pleasanter  to  the  eye.  Six  of  the  spots 
seen  closely,  you  discover  are  intended  to  represent  flowers. 
These  then  have  as  distinctly  a  graphic  purpose  as  the  other 
properties  of  the  plate  have  an  architectural  one,  and  the 
first  critical  question  we  have  to  ask  of  them,  is  whether 
they  are  like  roses  or  not.  ...  In  any  case,  however,  that 
graphic  power  must  have  been  subordinate  to  their  effect  as 
pink  spots,  while  the  band  of  green-blue  round  the  plate's 
edge,  and  the  spots  of  gold,  pretend  to  no  graphic  power 
at  all,  but  are  meaningless  spaces  of  color  or  metal,  etc., 
etc." 

It  is  clear  that  the  general  class,  the  type,  may  be 
presented  as  an  individual  and  that  the  individual 
may  be  made  to  serve  as  a  type.  Further,  the  char- 
acterization or  interpretation  of  a  particular  person 
or  object  is  exposition.  Indeed,  an  individual  object 
or  event  may  be  made  the  subject  of  any  of  the  four 
forms  of  discourse. 

Again,  the  idea  prevails  that  the  distinction  lies  in 
the  abstractness  of  the  terms :  that  if  the  subject  is 
presented  in  general  terms,  the  resulting  composition 
is  exposition,  while  if  the  terms  are  concrete,  specific, 
the  composition  must  be  description  or  narration. 
Here  are  two  accounts  of  the  creation  of  the  world, 


l6  THE   NATURE   OF  EXPOSITION 

whose  study  may  throw  some  light  on  this  view. 
The  first  is  from  Genesis,  the  second  from  Browning's 
Caliban,  where  a  savage  man  is  supposed  to  give  his 
views  about  creation  :  — 

"  In  the  beginning  God  created  the  heaven  and  the  earth. 
And  the  earth  was  without  form,  and  void ;  and  darkness 
was  upon  the  face  of  the  deep.  And  the  Spirit  of  God 
moved  upon  the  face  of  the  waters.  And  God  said,  Let  there 
be  light :  and  there  was  light.  And  God  saw  the  light,  that 
it  was  good :  and  God  divided  the  light  from  the  darkness. 
And  God  called  the  light  Day,  and  the  darkness  he  called 
Night.  And  the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the  first  day. 
And  God  said,  Let  there  be  a  firmament  in  the  midst  of  the 
waters,  and  let  it  divide  the  waters  from  the  waters.  And 
God  made  the  firmament  and  divided  the  waters  which  were 
under  the  firmament  from  the  waters  which  were  above  the 
firmament  :  and  it  was  so.  And  God  called  the  firmament 
Heaven.  And  the  evening  and  the  morning  were  the  second 
day.  And  God  said,  Let  the  waters  under  the  heaven  be 
gathered  together  unto  one  place,  and  let  the  dry  land  ap- 
pear :  and  it  was  so.  And  God  called  the  dry  land  Earth ; 
and  the  gathering  together  of  the  waters  called  he  Seas : 
and  God  saw  that  it  was  good.  And  God  said,  Let  the  earth 
bring  forth  grass,  the  herb  yielding  seed,  and  the  fruit  tree 
yielding  fruit  after  his  kind,  whose  seed  is  in  itself,  upon  the 
earth  :  and  it  was  so.  And  the  earth  brought  forth  grass, 
and  herb  yielding  seed  after  his  kind,  and  the  tree  yielding 
fruit,  whose  seed  was  in  itself,  after  his  kind  :  and  God  saw 
that  //  was  good.  And  the  evening  and  the  morning  were 
the  third  day.  And  God  said,  Let  there  be  light  in  the 
firmament  of  the  heaven  to  divide  the  day  from  the  night ; 


THE   NATURE   OF   EXPOSITION  17 

and  let  them  be  for  signs  and  for  seasons,  and  for  days,  and 
years  :  And  let  them  be  for  lights  in  the  firmament  of  the 
heaven  to  give  light  upon  the  earth  :  and  it  was  so.  And 
God  made  two  great  lights ;  the  greater  light  to  rule  the  day, 
and  the  lesser  light  to  rule  the  night :  he  made  the  stars  also. 
And  God  set  them  in  the  firmament  of  the  heaven  to  give 
light  upon  the  earth,  and  to  rule  over  the  day  and  over  the 
night,  and  to  divide  the  light  from  the  darkness  :  and  God 
saw  that  //  was  good.  And  the  evening  and  the  morning 
were  the  fourth  day.  And  God  said,  Let  the  waters  bring 
forth  abundantly  the  moving  creature  that  hath  life,  and  the 
fowl  that  may  fly  above  the  earth  in  the  open  firmament  of 
heaven." 

Abstract  words  prevail  here.  Let  us  see  how  the 
savage  thinking  on  the  same  subject  is  made  to  ex- 
press himself:  — 

"  Setebos,  Setebos,  and  Setebos  ! 
'  Thinketh,  He  dwelleth  i'  the  cold  o'  the  moon. 

'  Thinketh  He  made  it,  with  the  sun  to  match, 
But  not  the  stars ;  the  stars  came  otherwise ; 
Only  made  clouds,  winds,  meteors,  such  as  that : 
Also  this  isle,  what  lives  and  grows  thereon, 
And  snaky  sea  which  rounds  and  ends  the  same. 

'  Thinketh,  it  came  of  being  ill  at  ease  : 

He  hated  that  He  cannot  change  His  cold, 

***** 

'  Thinketh,  He  made  thereat  the  sun,  this  isle, 
Trees  and  the  fowls  here,  beast  and  creeping  thing. 
Yon  otter,  sleek-wet,  black,  lithe  as  a  leech ; 
Yon  auk,  one  fire -eye  in  a  ball  of  foam, 
EXPOSITION  —  2 


l8  THE  NATURE   OF  EXPOSITION 

That  floats  and  feeds ;  a  certain  badger  brown 

He  hath  watched  hunt  with  that  slant  white -wedge  eye 

By  moonlight ;  and  the  pie  with  the  long  tongue 

That  pricks  deep  into  oakwarts  for  a  worm, 

And  says  a  plain  word  when  she  finds  her  prize, 

But  will  not  eat  the  ants  j  the  ants  themselves 

That  build  a  wall  of  seeds  and  settled  stalks 

About  their  hole  —  He  made  all  these  and  more, 

Made  all  we  see,  and  us,  in  spite  :  how  else?" 

—  ROBERT  BROWNING  :  Caliban  upon  Setebos. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

Notice  that  while  the  biblical  account  brings  the 
process,  the  motives,  the  objects  of  creation,  be- 
fore the  reader  in  abstract  terms,  and  the  savage  is 
represented  as  thinking  in  concrete  images,  giving 
line,  color,  temperature,  definite  action  to  the  objects 
created,  the  second  account  is  essentially  exposition 
as  well  as  the  first.  The  first  names  classes  of  objects 
created ;  the  second  describes  individual  obj  ects  created, 
as  well.  The  going  more  into  detail,  the  use  of  de- 
scription as  a  means  of  exposition,  does  not  change 
the  nature  of  the  discourse. 

In  truth,  the  distinction  between  exposition  and 
the  other  forms  of  discourse  is  not  clear-cut.  Exposi- 
tion is  at  one  time  tributary  to  description,  narration, 
or  argumentation,  and  again  makes  them  tributary 
to  itself.  It  is  needed  to  make  clear  the  point  at  issue 
in  a  debate ;  and  appearance  and  action  usually  call 
for  some  interpretation  by  the  author  or  the  characters 


THE   NATURE   OF   EXPOSITION  19 

of  a  story  or  drama  (the  most  frequently  quoted 
passages  from  Shakespeare,  Jaques'  reflections  on 
the  seven  ages  of  man,  Hamlet's  soliloquy,  Portia's 
plea  for  mercy,  and  so  on,  are  exposition).  At  the 
same  time  exposition  may  proceed  by  means  of  the 
other  forms  of  discourse  :  it  may  make  use  of  descrip- 
tion, presenting  the  sensible  attributes  of  an  object; 
of  narration,  recording  action ;  or  of  argument,  employ- 
ing evidence.  Still,  however  much  exposition  may 
subserve  the  purpose  of  debate  or  description,  it  is  no 
less  exposition,  and  however  much  description  and 
narration  may  subserve  the  purpose  of  exposition, 
they  are  none  the  less  description  and  narration. 

The  confusion  arises  largely  from  the  fact  that  we 
classify  discourse  on  different  bases.  If  we  take 
purpose  as  the  basis  of  division,  we  may  include  un- 
der exposition  much  that  classified  by  method  would 
belong  in  another  category.  The  purpose  of  exposi- 
tion is  to  make  an  idea  clear  to  the  understanding. 
An  anecdote  intended  to  point  a  moral,  to  teach  a 
lesson,  a  description  designed  not  merely  to  give  a 
graphic  delineation,  but  to  make  one  see  in  order  that 
he  may  understand,  may,  judged  by  purpose,  be 
counted  as  exposition.  The  selfsame  words  may  be 
classified  in  different  ways  according  to  their  evident 
intent.  If  I  say,  the  tall,  broad-shouldered  boy  under 
the  tree,  near  the  stone  wall,  with  the  purpose  of  giv- 
ing an  idea  of  the  appearance  of  the  boy  and  his  set- 


20  THE  NATURE   OF   EXPOSITION 

ting  or  background,  I  may  not  call  this  bit  of  discourse 
exposition  ;  by  intention  and  method  it  is  descriptive; 
but  if  I  use  the  words  restrictively,  giving  the  particu- 
lars in  order  to  indicate  which  of  several  boys  in  a 
field  I  have  reference  to,  my  words  are  expository  in 
purpose. 

While  in  the  broadest  sense  exposition  includes  dis- 
course that  makes  an  idea  clear  to  the  understanding 
by  graphic  portrayal  of  sensible  attributes  (the  de- 
scriptive method),  by  record  of  events  (the  narrative 
method),  by  an  array  of  evidence  (the  argumentative 
method),  in  its  narrower  sense  it  indicates  such  dis- 
course as  makes  an  idea  clear  to  the  understanding 
by  means  of  definition  and  analysis. 

EXERCISES 

I.  Examine  the  two  following  paragraphs.  Which 
furnishes  material  for  a  picture,  which  for  a  map  or 
chart?  Which  is  addressed  to  the  senses,  which  to 
the  understanding  ?  What  form  of  discourse  is  each 
paragraph  ? 

"  Flinty  Point  on  his  right  was  sometimes  in  purple  shadow 
and  sometimes  shining  in  the  sun ;  Needle  Point  on  his  left 
was  sometimes  in  purple  shadow  and  sometimes  shining  in 
the  sun ;  and  beyond  these  headlands  spread  now  the  wide 
purple  and  now  the  wide  sparkle  of  the  open  sea.  The 
very  gulls,  wheeling  as  close  to  him  as  they  dared,  seemed 
to  be  frightened  at  the  little  boy's  peril.  " 


THE   NATURE   OF   EXPOSITION  21 

"One  corner,  as  already  mentioned,  was  called  Flinty 
Point,  the  other  Needle  Point,  and  between  these  two  points 
there  was  no  gangway  within  the  semicircle  up  the  wall  of 
cliff.  Indeed,  within  the  cove  the  cliff  was  perpendicular, 
or  rather  overhanging,  as  far  as  such  crumbling  earth  would 
admit  of  its  overhanging.  To  reach  a  gangway,  a  person  inside 
the  cove  would  have  to  leave  the  cliff  wall  for  the  open 
sands,  and  pass  round  either  Needle  Point  or  Flinty  Point. 
Hence  the  cove  was  sometimes  called  Mousetrap  Cove,  be- 
cause when  the  tide  reached  so  high  as  to  touch  these  two 
points,  a  person  on  the  sands  within  the  cove  was  caught  as 
in  a  mousetrap,  and  the  only  means  of  extrication  was  by 
boat  from  the  sea."  —  THEODORE  WATTS-DUNTON  :  Aylwin. 
Copyright,  1898,  by  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company. 

2.  Tell  to  what  form  of  discourse  each  of  the 
following  passages  belongs  and  give  reason  for  your 
classification  :  — 

"  The  statuette,  in  bronze,  something  more  than  two  feet 
high,  represented  a  naked  youth  drinking  from  a  gourd. 
The  attitude  was  perfectly  simple.  The  lad  was  squarely 
planted  on  his  feet,  with  his  legs  a  little  apart  ;  his  back 
was  slightly  hollowed,  his  head  thrown  back  ;  his  hands 
were  raised  to  support  the  rustic  cup.  There  was  a  loosened 
fillet  of  wild  flowers  about  his  head,  and  his  eyes,  under 
their  dropped  lids,  looked  straight  into  the  cup.  On  the 
base  was  scratched  the  Greek  word  At^a,  Thirst." 


"  '  Does  he  represent  an  idea?     Is  he  a  symbol?  ' 
"  Hudson  raised  his  eyebrows  and  gently  stroked  his  hair, 
'Why  he's  youth,  you  know;  he's  innocence,  he's  health, 
he's  strength,  he's  curiosity.    Yes,  he's  a  good  many  things.' 
"  'And  is  the  cup  also  a  symbol  ?  ' 


22  THE   NATURE   OF   EXPOSITION 

" '  The  cup  is  knowledge,  pleasure,  experience,  anything 
of  that  kind  ! '  "  —  HENRY  JAMES  :   Roderick  Hudson. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

3.  Are  the  details  in  the  following  passage  given 
to  make  clear  a  situation  or  to  give  a  sense  impression  ? 

"At  length  the  sudden  clang  is  waked,  on  all  their  echoing 
shields.  Each  takes  his  hill,  by  night;  at  intervals,  they 
darkly  stand.  Unequal  bursts  the  hum  of  songs,  between 
the  roaring  wind. 

"  Broad  over  them  rose  the  moon  ! " —  MACPHERSON  :  Ossian. 

4.  Does  the  following  paragraph  depict?     What 
else  does  it  accomplish  ?   What  is  its  primary  purpose  ? 
Its  method  ? 

"We  usually  have  one  or  two  trackhounds  at  the 
ranch ;  true  Southern  deerhounds,  black  and  tan,  with  lop 
ears  and  hanging  lips,  their  wrinkled  faces  stamped  with  an 
expression  of  almost  ludicrous  melancholy.  They  are  not 
fast,  and  have  none  of  the  alert  look  of  the  pied  and  spotted 
modern  foxhound ;  but  their  noses  are  very  keen,  their  voices 
deep  and  mellow,  and  they  are  wonderfully  staunch  on  a 
trail."  —  ROOSEVELT  :  Wilderness  Hunter. 
Copyright,  1893,  by  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 

5.  On   what    grounds    would   some    rhetoricians 
classify  the  following  paragraph  as  pure  exposition  ? 
(See  page  13.)     How  do  you  classify  it?     Why  ? 

"In  the  early  June  mornings,  when  the  light  begins  to  flush 
along  the  tops  of  the  eastern  hills,  there  is  a  charm,  a  pleas- 
ure, a  beauty  in  the  feeling  of  cool  air  that  fills  the  upper 
valleys ;  in  the  pale  mists  that  float  along  the  hillsides ;  in 
the  moist  currents  that  move  above  the  lowland  meadows, 


THE   NATURE   OF   EXPOSITION  23 

blurring  with  invisible  fingers  the  tall  weeds  and  bushes, 
silvering  over  the  foliage  of  the  willows  and  poplars,  and 
dripping  dew  into  the  cups  of  a  thousand  flowers.  It  was 
this  early  hour  that  Corot  loved  best  —  the  hour  when  he 
saw  the  beauty  of  the  morning  gleaming  through  a  silver 
veil,  and  caught  upon  canvas  the  vision  as  it  passed.  At 
noon  the  mists  and  dews  have  gone,  the  trees  stand  motion- 
less in  the  hot  sun,  casting  heavy  yet  luminous  shadows, 
butterflies  of  many  hues  waver  about  the  nodding  grass,  and 
bees  drone  idly  along  from  flower  to  flower.  A  warm  air 
appears  to  rise  from  the  earth,  gathering  around  the  maples 
on  the  walk,  and  occasionally  lifting  with  its  faint  breath  a 
single  leaf.  It  hangs  above  the  earth  in  waves  of  stillness 
like  an  enchanter's  spell,  touching  into  immobility  all  war- 
ring elements  of  nature,  and  hushing  for  a  time  the  conten- 
tions of  men.  This  is  the  hour  often  chosen  by  those  paint- 
ers of  nature's  brilliancy,  Fortuny,  De  Nittis,  Rico,  and  William 
M.  Chase.  And  then  comes  twilight,  when  the  trees  stand 
up  like  silhouettes  against  the  yellow  sky,  and  the  shadows 
come  creeping  down  into  the  foreground.  The  pond  is  a 
motionless  mirror  of  the  sky ;  the  reeds  and  bushes  are  dull 
spots  of  brown  and  green ;  the  air  moves  hither  and  thither 
in  faint  gray  waves,  pushing  about  little  patches  of  mist  al- 
ready risen,  imbuing  all  things  with  its  spirit,  and  tingeing  all 
things  with  its  hue.  This  was  the  hour  of  Daubigny  —  the 
hour  and  the  effect  he  so  often  depicted  in  his  silver  and 
golden  landscapes  along  the  banks  of  the  Seine  and  the 
Marne."  —  JOHN  C.  VAN  DYKE  :  Art  for  Arfs  Sake. 
By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

6.    Is  narration  or  exposition  the  primary  purpose 
of  the  following  paragraph  ?     Why  ? 


24  THE   NATURE  OF   EXPOSITION 

"  Just  here  must  be  told  the  story  of  one  little  wasp  whose 
individuality  stands  out  in  our  minds  more  distinctly  than 
that  of  any  others.  We  remember  her  as  the  most  fastidious 
and  perfect  little  worker  of  the  whole  season,  so  nice  was 
she  in  her  adaptation  of  means  to  ends,  so  busy  and  con- 
tented in  her  labor  of  love,  and  so  pretty  in  her  pride  over 
the  completed  work.  In  filling  up  her  nest  she  put  her  head 
down  into  it  and  bit  away  the  loose  earth  from  the  sides, 
letting  it  fall  to  the  bottom  of  the  burrow,  and  then,  after  a 
quantity  had  accumulated,  jammed  it  down  with  her  head. 
Earth  was  then  brought  from  the  outside  and  pressed  in, 
and  then  more  was  bitten  from  the  sides.  When  at  last  the 
filling  was  level  with  the  ground,  she  brought  a  quantity  of 
fine  grains  of  dirt  to  the  spot,  and  picking  up  a  small  pebble 
in  her  mandibles,  used  it  as  a  hammer  in  pounding  them 
down  with  rapid  strokes,  thus  making  this  spot  as  hard  and 
firm  as  the  surrounding  surface.  Before  we  could  recover 
from  our  astonishment  at  this  performance,  she  had  dropped 
her  stone  and  was  bringing  more  earth.  We  then  threw 
ourselves  down  on  the  ground  that  not  a  motion  might  be 
lost,  and  in  a  moment  we  saw  her  pick  up  the  pebble  and 
again  pound  the  earth  into  place  with  it,  hammering  now 
here  and  now  there  until  all  was  level.  .  .  .  We  are  claim- 
ing a  great  deal  for  Ammophila  when  we  say  that  she  im- 
provised a  tool  and  made  intelligent  use  of  it,  for  such 
actions  are  rare  even  among  the  higher  animals. " 

—  PECKHAM:   Wasps. 

By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

7.  In  explaining  in  what  sense  the  farmhouse 
parlor  may  be  said  to  be  beset  with  flowers,  what 
method  does  Mrs.  Meynell  use? 


THE  NATURE   OF  EXPOSITION  25 

"  The  most  ugly  of  all  imaginable  rooms,  which  is  probably 
the  parlor  of  a  farmhouse  arrayed  for  those  whom  Ameri- 
cans call  summer-boarders,  is  beset  with  flowers.  It  blooms, 
a  dry,  woolen,  papery,  cast-iron  garden.  The  floor  flour- 
ishes with  blossoms  adust,  poorly  conventionalized  into  a 
kind  of  order  ;  the  table  cover  is  ablaze  with  a  more  realistic 
florescence  ;  the  wall  paper  is  set  with  bunches  ;  the  rigid 
machine-lace  curtain  is  all  of  roses  and  lilies  in  its  very  con- 
struction ;  over  the  muslin  blinds  an  impotent  sprig  is  scat- 
tered. In  the  worsted  rosettes  of  the  bell  ropes,  in  the 
plaster  picture-frames,  in  the  painted  tea  tray  and  on  the 
cups,  in  the  pediment  of  the  sideboard,  in  the  ornament 
that  crowns  the  barometer,  in  the  finials  of  sofa  and  arm- 
chair, in  the  finger  plates  of  the  'grained'  door,  is  to  be 
seen  the  ineffectual  portrait  or  to  be  traced  the  stale  inspira- 
tion of  the  flower  —  and  what  is  this  bossiness  around  the 
grate  but  some  blunt,  black-leaded  garland  ?" 

—  ALICE  MEYNELL  :   The  Rhythm  of  Life. 
By  permission  of  the  John  Lane  Company. 

8.  Classify,  by  purpose  and  method,  the  following 
bits  of  discourse  :  — 

(a)  "  Winter  was  winter.  Snow  drifts  were  over  your  head, 
and  ice  was  three  feet  thick.  And  zero  —  for  boys  who 
slept  in  attics  to  which  no  particle  of  artificial  heat  ever 
penetrated,  zero  was  something  like  summer.  Young  Amer- 
ica was  tough  in  those  days. 

"  I  recall  at  this  moment  the  bitterly  cold  day  when  one  of 
our  number  skated  into  an  airhole  on  Whitman's  Pond.  It 
was  during  the  noon  recess.  His  home  was  a  mile  or  more 
east  of  the  pond,  and  the  schoolhouse  was  at  least  a  mile 
west  of  the  pond.  He  sank  into  the  water  up  to  his  chin, 


26  THE  NATURE   OF  EXPOSITION 

and  saved  himself  with  difficulty,  the  airhole  luckily  being 
small  and  the  ice  firm  about  the  edges.  What  would  a 
twentieth-century  boy  do  under  such  circumstances  ?  I 
can  only  guess.  But  I  know  what  Charles  H.  did.  He 
came  back  to  the  schoolhouse  first,  to  make  his  apologies  to 
the  master  ;  I  can  see  him  now,  as  he  came  in  smiling, 
looking  just  a  little  foolish  ;  then  he  ran  home  —  three 
miles,  perhaps  —  to  change  his  clothing.  And  he  is  living 
still.  Oh,  yes,  we  were  tough,  —  or  we  died  young." 

—  BRADFORD  TORREY  :  The  Clerk  of  the  Woods. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

(b)  "  The  subject-matter  of  biological  science  is  different 
from  that  of  other  sciences,  but  the  methods  of  all  are  iden- 
tical ;  and  these  methods  are  :  — 

"i.  Observation  of  facts  —  including  under  this  head  that 
artificial  observation  which  is  called  experiment. 

"  2.  That  process  of  tying  up  similar  facts  into  bundles, 
ticketed  and  ready  for  use,  which  is  called  comparison  and 
classification,  —  the  results  of  the  process,  the  ticketed  bun- 
dles, being  named  general  propositions. 

"3.  Deduction,  which  takes  us  from  the  general  proposi- 
tion to  facts  again  —  teaches  us,  if  I  may  so  say,  to  antici- 
pate from  the  ticket  what  is  inside  the  bundle.  And 
finally  — 

"4.    Verification,   which  is   the  process  of  ascertaining 
whether,  in  point  of  fact,  our  anticipation  is  a  correct  one." 
—  THOMAS  HENRY  HUXLEY  :  Lay  Sermons. 

(c)  "  A  woman  has  always  a  weakness  for  nature ;  with 
her,  art  is  only  beautiful  as  an  echo  or  shadow  of  it.  ... 
She  can  never  be  utterly  of  the  town,  as  a  man  can ;  indeed, 
do  we  not  speak  (with  sacred  propriety)  of  '  a  man  about 
town '  ?    Who  ever  spoke  of  a  woman  about  town  ?    How- 


THE  NATURE  OF  EXPOSITION  27 

ever  much,  physically,  '  about  town  '  a  woman  may  be,  she 
still  models  herself  on  nature ;  she  tries  to  carry  nature  with 
her ;  she  bids  grasses  to  grow  on  her  head,  and  furry  beasts 
to  bite  her  about  the  throat.  In  the  heart  of  a  dim  city,  she 
models  her  hat  on  a  flaring  cottage  garden  of  flowers.  We, 
with  our  nobler  civic  sentiment,  model  ours  on  a  chimney 
pot ;  the  ensign  of  civilization.  And  rather  than  be  without 
birds,  she  will  commit  massacre,  that  she  may  turn  her  head 
into  a  tree,  with  dead  birds  to  sing  on  it." 
—  GILBERT  K.  CHESTERTON  :  The  Napoleon  of  Notting  HilL 

By  permission  of  the  John  Lane  Company. 

(d)  " '  This,'  said  he,  lifting  it  up,  '  is  an  ancient  Gnostic 
amulet.     It  is  called  the  "  Moonlight  Cross  "  of  the  Gnostics. 

******* 

It  is  made  of  precious  stones  cut  in  facets,  with  rubies  and 
diamonds  and  beryls  so  cunningly  set  that,  when  the  moon- 
light falls  on  them,  the  cross  flashes  almost  as  brilliantly  as 
when  the  sunlight  falls  on  them,  and  is  kindled  into  living 
fire.  These  deep-colored  crimson  rubies  —  almost  as  clear 
as  diamonds  —  are  not  of  the  ordinary  kind.  They  are  true 
"Oriental  rubies,"  and  the  jewelers  would  tell  you  that  the 
mine  which  produced  them  has  been  lost  during  several 
centuries.  But  look  here  when  I  lift  it  up  ;  the  most  wonder- 
ful feature  of  the  jewel  is  the  skill  with  which  the  diamonds 
are  cut.  The  only  shapes  generally  known  are  what  are 
called  the  "  brilliant  "  and  the  "  rose,"  but  here  the  facets  are 
arranged  in  an  entirely  different  way,  and  evidently  with  the 
view  of  throwing  light  into  the  very  hearts  of  the  rubies  and 
producing  this  peculiar  radiance.'  " 

— THEODORE  WATTS-DUNTON  :  Ay  twin. 

Copyright,  1898,  by  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company. 


28  THE  NATURE  OF  EXPOSITION 

(e)  "Democracy  is  not  philanthropy ;  it  is  not  even  altruism 
or  social  reform.  Democracy  is  not  founded  on  pity  for  the 
common  man ;  democracy  is  founded  on  reverence  for  the 
common  man,  or  if  you  will,  even  in  fear  of  him.  It  does 
not  champion  man  because  man  is  so  miserable,  but 
because  man  is  so  sublime.  It  does  not  object  so  much 
to  the  ordinary  man  being  a  slave  as  to  his  not  being 
a  king,  for  its  dream  is  always  the  dream  of  the  first 
Roman  republic,  a  nation  of  kings." 

—  G.  K.  CHESTERTON  :  Heretics. 
By  permission  of  the  John  Lane  Company. 

9.  In  the  following  excerpts  indicate  the  expository 
and  the  descriptive  passages  :  — 

(a)  "  Mrs.  Brookfield  describes  Mrs.  Carlyle  as  very  slight, 
neat,  erect  in  figure,  animated  in  expression,  with  very  good 
eyes  and  teeth,  but  with  no  pretension  to  beauty.  She  says 
she  used  '  to  remain  in  her  own  room  during  the  early  part 
of  the  day,  while  her  husband  took  his  walks  accompanied 
by  his  admirers.  When  she  did  appear  she  was  always 
especially  taken  care  of  by  Lady  Ashburton,  and  she  expected 
and  was  conceded  a  certain  prominence  amongst  the  many 
other  visitors  of  more  or  less  distinction  in  that  delightful  and 
hospitable  house.  Mrs.  Carlyle's  instinct  was  always  to  take 
the  lead.  At  the  Grange  this  was  not  easy,  for  the  grandeur 
and  brilliancy  of  our  hostess,  who,  according  to  Mrs.  Twistle- 
ton,  scattered  '  pearls  and  diamonds  whenever  she  spoke/ 
made  her  the  first  attraction  and  interest  to  all  around 
her.  In  conversation,  clever  and  amusing  as  she  often  was, 
Mrs.  Carlyle  had  the  fatal  propensity  of  telling  her  stories 
at  extraordinary  length.  With  her  Scotch  accent  and  her 
perseverance  in  finishing  off  every  detail,  those  who  were 
merely  friendly  acquaintances  and  not  devotees  sometimes 


THE  NATURE  OF  EXPOSITION  29 

longed  for  an  abridgment,  and  perhaps  also  to  have  their 
own  turn  in  the  conversation.7" 

—  CHARLES  and  FRANCES  BROOKFIELD  :   Mrs.  Brookfield 
and  her  Circle.      By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

(£)  "Liked  him  better  than  I  expected  to.  A  large,  tall 
man  with  black  hair  streaked  with  gray,  black  close-cut 
side-whiskers,  prominent  nose,  large,  coarse  (but  pure)  mouth, 
and  muscular  neck.  In  fact,  a  much  coarser  man  than  you 
would  expect  to  see,  and  stronger  looking,  a  good  specimen 
of  the  best  English  stock,  plenty  of  color,  a  wholesome 
coarseness,  and  open-air  look.  One  would  say  that  he  be- 
longed to  a  bigger  and  more  powerful  race  than  the  rest  of 
the  people  in  the  room.  His  voice  was  husky,  more  like  a 
sailor's,  I  thought,  than  the  other  voices  I  heard.  When  he 
talks  to  you  he  throws  his  head  back  (the  reverse  of  Emerson's 
manner),  and  looks  out  from  under  his  heavy  eyelids,  and 
sights  you  down  his  big  nose  —  draws  off  as  it  were,  and 
gives  you  his  chin.  It  is  the  critical  attitude,  not  the  sympa- 
thetic —  yet  he  does  not  impress  one  as  cold  and  haughty, 
but  quite  the  contrary." —  JOHN  BURROUGHS  :  Indoor  Studies. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

Copied  from  notebook  —  entry  made  after  hearing  Arnold 
lecture  on  Emerson  in  1884. 

(c)  "In  front  of  the  skiff,  faraway  on  the  horizon  out  of 
the  black  water,  arose  an  enormous  fiery-blue  sword,  cutting 
athwart  the  night,  gliding  edgewise  over  the  clouds  on  the 
sky,  and  lying  on  the  bosom  of  the  sea  in  a  broad  blue  strip. 
There  it  lay,  and  into  the  zone  of  its  radiance  there  floated 
out  of  the  dark  the  hitherto  invisible  black  vessels,  all 
silent  and  enshrouded  in  the  thick  night  mists.  It  seemed 
as  if  they  had  lain  for  long  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  drawn 


30  THE  NATURE  OF  EXPOSITION 

down  thither  by  the  mighty  power  of  the  tempest,  and  now 
behold !  They  had  risen  from  thence,  at  the  command  of 
the  fiery  sea-born  sword,  risen  to  look  at  the  sky  and  at  all 
above  the  water.  Their  tackle  hugged  the  masts,  and  seemed 
to  be  ends  of  seaweed  risen  from  the  depths  together  with 
these  black  giants  im meshed  within  them.  And  again  this 
strange  gleaming  blue  sword  arose  from  the  surface  of  the  sea, 
again  it  cut  the  night  in  twain  and  flung  itself  in  another  direc- 
tion. And  again  where  it  lay  the  dark  hulls  of  vessels,  invis- 
ible before  its  manifestation,  floated  out  of  the  darkness. 

'" .  .  .  That's  the  customhouse  cruiser.  That  is  the 
electric  lantern  .  .  .  what  are  you  afraid  of  ?  .  .  . 
The  lantern  is  a  mirror  —  that's  all !  .  .  .  They  incline 
the  mirror  this  way  and  that,  and  so  light  up  the  sea  in  order 
that  they  may  see  whether  folks  like  you  and  me.  for  instance, 
are  sailing  about  anywhere.  They  do  it  to  catch  smugglers. 
They  won't  tackle  us.  Don't  be  afraid,  clodhopper.1  .  .  . 

"  Gabriel  kept  silence,  rowed,  and  breathed  heavily,  still 
gazing  furtively  in  the  direction  where  that  fiery  sword  kept 
on  rising  and  falling.  He  could  by  no  means  believe  Chel- 
kash  that  it  was  only  a  lamp  with  a  reflector.  The  cold  blue 
gleam,  cutting  the  darkness  asunder  and  making  the  sea  shine 
with  a  silvery  radiance,  had  something  incomprehensible  in  it, 
and  Gabriel  again  fell  into  the  hypnosis  of  anxious  terror." 

—  MAXIM  GORKY  :  Chelkash. 
Translated  by  R.  N.  Bain.    By  permission  of  Funk  and  Wagnalls. 

10.  Write  a  paragraph  of  exposition  aided  by  de- 
scription or  argumentation. 

1 1 .  Write  two  paragraphs  on  one  subject.    Let  your 
first  treatment  of  the  subject  be  descriptive,  the  second 
expository. 


THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 


THE   PROCESSES   OF   EXPOSITION 

DEFINITION 

DEFINITION  and  analysis  are  the  proper  and  charac- 
teristic processes  of  exposition.  Definition  is  syn- 
thetic ;  it  considers  the  idea  in  its  entirety.  Analysis 
resolves  it  into  its  elements  or  considers  partial 
phases  or  particular  aspects  of  the  whole.  Defini- 
tion and  analysis  usually  occur  together,  the  one 
supplementing  the  other.  For  example,  in  the  first 
chapter  of  Shipley  and  Mac  Bride's  Zoology,  we  find 
the  definition  of  evolution  :  "  The  progressive  modifi- 
cation of  species  by  the  agency  of  natural  selection 
is  called  Evolution."  Immediately  after  the  defini- 
tion, we  find  the  subject,  evolution,  divided  and  the 
two  divisions,  in  turn,  defined :  "  If  the  modification 
tends  toward  simplification  of  structure,  it  is  called 
Degeneration ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  it  tends  toward 
great  complexity,  it  is  spoken  of  as  Differentiation." 
We  shall,  however,  examine  one  process  at  a  time, 
considering  first,  definition. 

Definition  seeks  complete  identification.  When 
this  can  be  accomplished  by  the  employment  of  a 
synonym,  —  when  the  unknown  may  be  explained  by 

the  substitution  of  a  known  or  familiar  term,  —  the 
EXPOSITION  —  3  33 


34  THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 

work  is  simple  indeed,  but  this  is  possible  only  where 
the  idea  under  consideration  is  a  familiar  one  and 
where  the  language  offers  two  exactly  equivalent 
words.  Ordinarily,  we  reach  an  exact  definition  only 
through  exact  observation,  comparison,  and  classifi- 
cation of  facts,  and  painstaking  expression  of  the 
results.  We  aspire  in  definition  to  name  the  class 
to  which  an  object  belongs,  and  to  give  those  proper- 
ties that  distinguish  it  from  other  members  of  its 
class.  If  we  were  studying  a  circle,  we  might  see 
that  it  had  some  resemblance  to  a  sphere,  but  on 
further  consideration  decide  that  there  is  an  essential 
difference,  that  the  circle  and  the  sphere  do  not  be- 
long in  the  same  class ;  that  the  circle  belongs  not  to 
solids,  but  to  plane  figures.  Having  classed  it,  the 
next  step  would  be  to  differentiate  it  from  a  square 
and  other  members  of  its  class.  The  difference  is 
evidently  in  the  boundary ;  the  circle  is  a  plane  fig- 
ure bounded  by  a  curved  line,  every  point  of  which  is 
equally  distant  from  the  center  of  the  figure.  This  is 
a  satisfactory  definition  :  The  class  plus  the  differenti- 
ation, or  distinguishing  quality,  is  the  exact  equivalent 
of  "circle."  The  subject  and  predicate  are  inter- 
changeable. We  may  say  with  perfect  truth  that  every 
plane  figure  bounded  by  a  curved  line,  every  point  of 
which  is  equally  distant  from  the  center  of  the  figure, 
is  a  circle.  That  is,  our  definition  includes  all  circles 
and  excludes  all  things  that  are  not  circles. 


DEFINITION  35 

Because  of  imperfect  observation,  too  superficial 
comparison,  incomplete  classification,  or  inadequate 
power  of  inference,  we  are  not  always  able  to  attain 
perfect  definitions.  In  his  lecture  on  The  Educa- 
tional Value  of  Natural  History  Sciences,  Professor 
Huxley  calls  attention  to  this  fact.  He  says  :  — 

"  So  long  as  our  information  concerning  them  is  imperfect, 
we  class  all  objects  together  according  to  resemblances  which 
vfefeel,  but  cannot  define;  we  group  them  round  types,  in 
short.  Thus,  if  you  ask  an  ordinary  person  what  kinds  of 
animals  there  are,  he  will  probably  say,  beasts,  birds,  reptiles, 
fishes,  insects,  etc.  Ask  him  to  define  a  beast  from  a  reptile, 
and  he  cannot  do  it ;  but  he  says,  things  like  a  cow  or  a 
horse  are  beasts,  and  things  like  a  frog  or  a  lizard  are  rep- 
tiles. You  see  he  does  class  by  type,  and  not  by  definition. 
But  how  does  this  classification  differ  from  that  of  the  scien- 
tific zoologist  ?  How  does  the  meaning  of  the  scientific 
class-name  of  '  Mammalia '  differ  from  the  unscientific  of 
'  Beasts'? 

"  Why,  exactly  because  the  former  depends  on  a  definition, 
the  latter  on  a  type.  The  class  Mammalia  is  scientifically 
defined  as,  '  all  animals  which  have  a  vertebrated  skeleton 
and  suckle  their  young.7  Here  is  no  reference  to  type,  but 
a  definition  rigorous  enough  for  a  geometrician.  And  such 
is  the  character  which  every  scientific  naturalist  recognizes 
as  that  to  which  his  classes  must  aspire  —  knowing,  as  he 
does,  that  classification  by  type  is  simply  an  acknowledg- 
ment of  ignorance  and  a  temporary  device." 

—  THOMAS  H.  HUXLEY  :  Lay  Sermons. 

In  ordinary  exposition  our  definitions  are  more 
often  than  not  imperfect.  Of  the  several  subpro- 


36  THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 

cesses  of  definition,  usually,  only  one  or  two  are  em- 
ployed. Much  that  passes  for  definition  is  mere 
classification.  The  student  is  apt  to  think  he  has 
told  the  whole  story  when  he  has  said  "  a  circle  is  a 
plane  figure";  the  teacher  explains  to  the  pupil, 
"  A  Flathead  is  an  Indian,"  "  The  Agaricus  Campes- 
tris  is  a  mushroom,"  "A  canoe  is  a  skiff,"  " A  Re- 
public is  a  government";  " Poetry,"  said  Matthew 
Arnold,  "is  a  personal  interpretation  of  life."  On 
the  other  hand,  where  we  give  characteristics  that 
are  distinctive,  we  are  apt  to  give  meaningless  classi- 
fication or  none  at  all ;  "  A  circle  is  bounded  by  a 
line,  every  point  of  which  is  equally  distant  from  the 
center,"  merely  implies  the  class.  To  begin  a  defini- 
tion, "  A  chimpanzee  is  a  creature,"  "  An  astrolabe 
is  a  contrivance,"  " Asbestos  is  a  substance,"  "Con- 
science is  something,"  is  to  go  through  the  form  of 
classification,  but  to  make  little  headway  in  definition. 
Exact  classification  is  very  important ;  it  is  enlighten- 
ing, and  may  be  more.  Mere  categorization  is  often 
effective  in  challenging  attention  and  provoking 
thought.  This  is  especially  true  where  the  classifica- 
tion seems  paradoxical,  as  when  Mr.  Phelps-Stokes 
classes  the  idle  rich  as  paupers,  when  Ruskin  calls 
money-making  play,  and  Mr.  Shaw  ranges  disobedi- 
ence among  the  virtues. 

While   exact   classification    is    often    helpful    and 
effective,  and  inexact  classification  is  crude  and  re- 


DEFINITION  37 

dundant,  loose  classification  is  sometimes  better  than 
close  classification  for  the  purpose  of  popular  exposi- 
tion. To  class  the  Dendroica  caerulescens  as  a  small 
bird  would  seem  a  waste  of  words  to  an  ornithologist, 
but  to  class  it  as  a  warbler  and  proceed  to  give  the 
characteristics  that  distinguish  it  from  other  warblers, 
would  be  to  omit  much  that  those  who  are  so  ignorant 
of  birds  as  to  suppose  that  robins  and  orioles  and  larks 
are  warblers,  should  know  about  the  bird  in  question. 
We  have  to  use  common-sense  here  and  remember 
that  an  exact  classification  that  necessitates  the  use 
of  terms  that  will  not  be  exactly  understood  by  the 
reader,  defeats  its  own  end. 

It  is  permissible  in  approximate  definition  for  a 
writer  to  omit  the  class  and  employ  only  the  first  step 
toward  complete  definition.  He  may  take  into  con- 
sideration only  the  properties  and  manifestations  that 
are  discoverable  from  observation  or  study  of  his  sub- 
ject, and  deny,  affirm,  or  imply  these.  We  do  this 
when  we  say,  true  poetry  is  "  simple,  sensuous,  and 
passionate  "  ;  true  criticism  is  "  disinterested,"  and  so 
on.  Denial  is  often  used  to  imply  what  it  is  difficult 
to  state  explicitly,  as  "  It  was  not  orange  and  it  was 
not  red  "  ;  here  the  meaning  evidently  is  that  it  was 
something  between  the  two.  Or  denial  may  be  so 
combined  with  affirmation  as  to  give  particular  point 
to  the  affirmation ;  Channing  in  striving  to  define  his 
ideal  wrote  that  his  endeavor  was,  "  to  seek  elegance 


38  THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 

rather  than  luxury,  refinement  rather  than  fashion,  to 
be  worthy,  not  respectable,  and  wealthy,  not  rich." 
In  characterizing  the  quiet  of  Charles  Lamb,  Walter 
Pater  uses  this  method  with  greater  elaboration :  "In 
his  writing,  as  in  his  life,  that  quiet  is  not  the  low- 
flying  of  one  from  the  first  drowsy  by  choice,  and 
needing  the  prick  of  some  strong  passion  or  worldly 
ambition,  to  stimulate  him  into  all  the  energy  of 
which  he  is  capable ;  but  rather  the  reaction  of  nature 
after  an  escape  from  fate,  dark  and  insane  as  in  old 
Greek  tragedy,  following  upon  which  the  sense  of 
mere  relief  becomes  a  kind  of  passion,  as  with  one 
who,  having  narrowly  escaped  earthquake  or  ship- 
wreck, finds  a  thing  for  grateful  tears  in  just  sitting 
quiet  at  home,  under  the  wall,  till  the  end  of  his  days." 
Again,  the  single  process  employed  may  be  com- 
parison ;  resemblances  or  differences  may  be  affirmed, 
denied,  or  implied.  The  comparison  may  be  fully 
expressed,  as  in  a  simile,  as  in  Bacon's  "  Fame  is  like 
a  river,  that  beareth  up  things  light  and  swollen,  and 
drowns  things  weighty  and  solid  "  ;  or  it  may  be  im- 
plied in  metaphor,  as  when  Bacon  wrote,  "  Riches  are 
the  baggage  of  virtue."  The  comparison  may  be  elab- 
orated, but  in  approximate  definition  it  is  not  always 
necessary  to  point  out  explicitly  resemblances  and 
differences  ;  the  value  of  such  definition  often  lies  in 
its  suggestiveness,  its  appeal  to  the  understanding 
through  the  imagination. 


DEFINITION  39 

Frequently  in  partial  definition  a  single  process  is 
repeated  with  good  results,  and  we  have  a  succes- 
sion of  comparisons,  or  of  affirmations  or  denials  of 
attributes,  or  a  piling  up  of  approximate  synonyms. 
Newman,  trying  to  make  clear  what  he  meant  by 
"intellectual  proficiency  or  perfection,"  called  it 
"philosophy,  philosophical  knowledge,  enlargement 
of  the  mind,  or  illumination."  Emerson  tried  to  flash 
out  some  idea  of  his  conception  of  prudence  by  re- 
peated definition  —  "  Prudence  is  the  virtue  of  the 
senses.  It  is  the  science  of  appearances.  It  is  the 
outmost  action  of  the  inward  life.  It  is  God  taking 
thought  for  oxen." 

Humorous  effects  are  often  secured  by  repeating 
the  process,  as  when  Lamb  piles  up  metaphors  to 
express  the  exasperation  excited  by  poor  relations  :  — 

"  A  Poor  Relation  —  is  the  most  irrelevant  thing  in  nature, 
—  a  piece  of  impertinent  correspondency,  —  an  odious  ap- 
proximation,—  a  haunting  conscience,  —  a  preposterous 
shadow,  lengthening  in  the  noontide  of  our  prosperity,  —  an 
unwelcome  remembrancer,  —  a  perpetually  recurring  morti- 
fication, —  a  drain  on  your  purse,  —  a  more  intolerable  dun 
upon  your  pride,  —  a  drawback  upon  success,  —  a  rebuke  to 
your  rising,  —  a  stain  in  your  blood,  —  a  blot  on  your 
'scutcheon,  —  a  rent  in  your  garment,  —  a  death's  head  at 
your  banquet,  —  Agathocles'  pot,  —  a  Mordecai  in  your  gate, 
—  a  Lazarus  at  your  door,  —  a  lion  in  your  path,  —  a  frog 
in  your  chamber,  —  a  fly  in  your  ointment, — a  mote  in 
your  eye,  —  a  triumph  to  your  enemy,  —  an  apology  to  your 


40  THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 

friends,  —  the  one  thing  not  needful,  —  the  hail  in  harvest, 
—  the  ounce  of  sour  in  a  pound  of  sweet." 

—  CHARLES  LAMB:  Poor  Relations. 

Several  of  the  defining  processes  may  be  combined 
to  bring  out  an  intangible  idea,  as  in  the  following 
passage,  where  charity  is  compared  with  other  vir- 
tues, and  particular  manifestations  are  affirmed  and 
denied  :  — 

"  Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels 
and  have  not  charity,  I  am  become  as  sounding  brass  or  a 
tinkling  cymbal. 

"  And  though  I  have  the  gift  of  prophecy,  and  understand 
all  mysteries,  and  all  knowledge ;  and  though  I  have  all 
faith,  so  that  I  could  remove  mountains,  and  have  not  char- 
ity, I  am  nothing. 

"And  though  I  bestow  all  my  goods  to  feed  the  poor,  and 
though  I  give  my  body  to  be  burned,  and  have  not  charity, 
it  profiteth  me  nothing. 

"Charity  surTereth  long,  and  is  kind;  charity  envieth  not; 
charity  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up, 

"  Doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly,  seeketh  not  her  own, 
is  not  easily  provoked,  thinketh  no  evil ; 

"Rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  in  the  truth ; 

"  Beareth  all  things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things, 
endureth  all  things. 

"  Charity  never  faileth ;  but  whether  there  be  prophecies, 
they  shall  fail ;  whether  there  be  tongues,  they  shall  cease ; 
whether  there  be  knowledge,  it  shall  vanish  away." 

—  /  Corinthians ,  xiii. 

Imperfect  definition  plays  a  larger  part  in  literature 
than  perfect  definition,  though  in  serious  work  the 


DEFINITION  41 

perfect  definition,  implied  or  expressed,  is  the  goal  of 
partial  definition.  Perfect  definitions  do  not  spring 
full  grown  into  being;  they  have  been  rightly  de- 
scribed as  "  digests  of  abstractions,"  and  if  presented 
without  the  steps  leading  to  them,  they  have  meaning 
and  value  only  for  those  who  stand  provided  with  the 
knowledge  necessary  to  understand  them,  and  lack 
only  the  formulation  of  that  knowledge.  Take,  for 
example,  Matthew  Arnold's  well-known  definition  of 
criticism  as  a  "disinterested  endeavor  to  learn  and 
propagate  the  best  that  is  known  and  thought  in  the 
world."  For  one  who  understands  the  definition,  all 
has  been  said  in  three  lines,  but  Arnold  took  as  many 
as  sixty  pages  to  prepare  his  readers  to  take  from 
it  the  meaning  he  wished  it  to  convey. 

Where  we  attempt  the  complete  definition  we 
should  furnish  any  preparation  necessary  to  make  it 
intelligible,  and  we  should  seek  in  our  formulation  of 
the  definition  to  be  at  once  general  and  accurate,  to 
make  a  definition  broad  enough  to  include  whatever 
properly  belongs  under  the  term  defined,  and  narrow 
enough  to  exclude  everything  else.  Cardinal  New- 
man's definition  of  a  gentleman  as  one  who  never  in- 
flicts pain,  taken  literally,  is  too  narrow  —  it  excludes 
surgeons,  judges,  military  men,  most  of  those  who 
have  to  do  with  the  serious  side  of  life.  Mr.  Phelps- 
Stokes,  in  defining  a  pauper  as  a  member  of  society 
who,  through  disability  or  disinclination  for  self- 


42  THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 

support  by  useful  service,  is  supported  at  the  expense 
of  the  people,  sought  to  make  his  definition  broad 
enough  to  include  the  idle  rich,  but  in  doing  that  he 
made  it  broad  enough  to  include  many  of  the  busy 
rich,  all  invalids,  insane  people,  thieves,  women  and 
children,  who  do  not  support  themselves  by  some 
"  useful  service/*  and  so  on.  Mr.  Robert  Hunter  was 
perhaps  more  successful  in  his  attempt  to  define  pov- 
erty in  such  a  way  as  to  exclude  irresponsible  pauper- 
ism ;  he  defines  poverty  as  the  anxious  state  of  those 
who  may  get  a  bare  sustenance,  but  are  not  able  to 
obtain  those  necessities  which  will  permit  them  to 
maintain  a  state  of  physical  efficiency. 

EXERCISES 

I.  Which  of  the  following  aids  for  the  classifica- 
tion of  poetry  suggested  by  Matthew  Arnold  in  The 
Study  of  Poetry,  would  be,  judged  by  Professor  Hux- 
ley's standard  (page  35),  more  scientific? 

(a)  "  Indeed  there  can  be  no  more  useful  help  for  dis- 
covering what  poetry  belongs  to  the  class  of  the  truly  excel- 
lent, and  can  therefore  do  us  most  good,  than  to  have 
always  in  one's  mind  lines  and  expressions  of  the  great 
masters,  and  to  apply  them  as  a  touchstone  to  other 
poetry." 

(£)  "  The  substance  and  matter  of  the  best  poetry 
acquire  their  special  character  from  possessing  in  an  emi- 
nent degree,  truth  and  seriousness.  We  may  add  yet 
further,  what  is  in  itself  evident,  that  to  the  style  and 


DEFINITION  43 

manner  of  the  best  poetry  their  special  character,  their 
accent,  is  given  by  their  diction,  and,  even  yet  more,  by 
their  movement." 

2.    Criticise  the  following  definitions  :  — 

(a)  A  college   is   an   institution  for  the  education  of 
young  men. 

(b)  Dinner  is  the  third  meal  in  the  day. 

(c)  An  idealist  is  an  artist  who  represents  life  not  as  it  is, 
but  as  it  might  be. 

(d)  "  Poetry  is  nothing  less  than  the  most  perfect  speech 
of  man,  that  in  which  he  comes  nearest  to  being  able  to 
utter  truth."  —  ARNOLD. 

(e)  "A  civil  war  is  like  the  heat  of  a  fever,  but  a  foreign 
war  is  like  the  heat  of  exercise,  and  serveth  to  keep  the 
body  in  health."  —  BACON. 

(/)    Thunder  is  a  sound  following  a  flash  of  lightning. 

(g)  "A  friend  is  a  person  with  whom  I  may  be  sincere."  — 
EMERSON. 

(ti)  "  Prayer  is  the  soul's  sincere  desire  uttered  or  unex- 
pressed." —  J.  MONTGOMERY. 

(z)  Education  is  the  process  of  fitting  an  individual  for 
work  by  giving  him  essential  knowledge,  establishing  in  him 
right  tendencies,  and  developing  power. 

(/)  Socialists  are  those  citizens  who  believe  that  the 
good  of  the  individual  should  be  sacrificed  to  the  welfare  of 
society. 

(k)  "  Architecture  is  the  art  which  so  disposes  and  adorns 
the  edifices  raised  by  man  for  whatsoever  uses,  that  the 
sight  of  them  contributes  to  his  mental  health,  power,  and 
pleasure."  —  RUSKIN. 


44  THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 

3.  Write  six  definitions  of  familiar  terms,  making 
the  definitions  as  nearly  perfect  as  possible. 

4.  Discover  the  methods  used   in   the   following 
approximate  definitions :  — 

"  Humility  or  condescension,  viewed  as  a  virtue  of  conduct, 
may  be  said  to  consist,  as  in  other  things,  so  in  our  placing 
ourselves  in  our  thoughts  on  a  level  with  our  inferiors ;  it  is 
not  only  a  voluntary  relinquishment  of  the  privileges  of  our 
own  station,  but  an  actual  participation  or  assumption  of 
the  condition  of  those,  to  whom  we  stoop.  This  is  true 
humility,  to  feel  and  to  behave  as  if  we  were  low ;  not,  to 
cherish  a  notion  of  our  importance,  while  we  affect  a  low 
position.  Such  was  St.  Paul's  humility,  when  he  called  him- 
self <  the  least  of  the  saints ' ;  such  the  humility  of  those 
many  holy  men  who  have  considered  themselves  the  greatest 
of  sinners.  It  is  an  abdication,  as  far  as  their  own  thoughts 
are  concerned,  of  those  prerogatives  or  privileges  to  which 
others  deem  them  entitled.  ...  as  the  world  uses  the 
word,  '  condescension '  is  a  stooping  indeed  of  the  person, 
but  a  bending  forward,  unattended  with  any  the  slightest 
effort  to  leave  by  a  single  inch  the  seat  in  which  it  is  so 
firmly  established.  It  is  the  act  of  a  superior,  who  protests 
to  himself,  while  he  commits  it,  that  he  is  superior  still,  and 
that  he  is  doing  nothing  else  but  an  act  of  grace  towards 
those  on  whose  level,  in  theory,  he  is  placing  himself." 

"Humility,  with  its  grave  and  self-denying  attributes,  it 
[the  world]  cannot  love  ;  but  what  is  more  beautiful,  what 
more  winning,  than  modesty?  What  virtue,  at  first  sight, 
simulates  humility  so  well  ?  though  what,  in  fact,  is  more 
radically  distinct  from  it  ?  In  truth,  great  as  is  its  charm, 
modesty  is  not  the  deepest  or  the  most  religious  of  virtues. 


DEFINITION  45 

Rather,  it  is  the  advanced  guard  or  sentinel  of  the  soul 
militant,  and  watches  continually  over  its  nascent  intercourse 
with  the  world  about  it.  It  goes  the  round  of  the  senses ; 
it  mounts  up  into  the  countenance ;  it  protects  the  eye  and 
ear ;  it  reigns  in  the  voice  and  gesture.  Its  province  is  the 
outward  deportment  .  .  .  and  being  more  superficial  than 
other  virtues,  it  is  more  easily  disjoined  from  their  company ; 
it  admits  of  being  associated  with  principles  or  qualities 
naturally  foreign  to  it,  and  is  often  made  the  cloak  of 
feelings  or  ends  for  which  it  was  never  given  to  us.  So 
little  is  it  the  necessary  index  of  humility,  that  it  is  even 
compatible  with  pride." 

—  CARDINAL  NEWMAN  :  Knowledge  and  Religious  Duty. 
By  permission  of  Longmans,  Green,  and  Company. 

"  They  are  not  beautiful  :  they  are  only  decorated.  They 
are  not  clean  :  they  are  only  shaved  and  starched.  They  are 
not  dignified  :  they  are  only  fashionably  dressed.  They 
are  not  educated  :  they  are  only  college  passmen.  They 
are  not  religious  :  they  are  only  pew  renters.  They  are  not 
moral  :  they  are  only  conventional.  .  .  .  They  are  not 
prosperous  :  they  are  only  rich.  They  are  not  loyal :  they 
are  only  servile;  not  dutiful,  only  sheepish;  not  public 
spirited,  only  patriotic  ;  not  courageous,  only  quarrelsome  ; 
not  determined,  only  obstinate  ;  not  masterful,  only  domi- 
neering ;  not  self-controlled,  only  obtuse  ;  not  self-respect- 
ing, only  vain  ;  not  kind,  only  sentimental  ;  not  social,  only 
gregarious  ;  not  considerate,  only  polite  ;  not  intelligent, 
only  opinionated  ;  not  progressive,  only  factious  ;  not  im- 
aginative, only  superstitious  ;  not  just,  only  vindictive  ;  not 
generous,  only  propitiatory  ;  not  disciplined,  only  cowed  ; 
and  not  truthful  at  all." 

—  BERNARD  SHAW  :  Man  and  Superman.      By  permission. 


46  THE   PROCESSES   OF   EXPOSITION 

The  Prairies  :  — 

"  My  days  and  nights,  as  I  travel  here  —  what  an  exhilara- 
tion !  —  not  the  air  alone,  and  the  sense  of  vastness,  but 
every  local  sight  and  feature.  Everywhere  something  char- 
acteristic —  the  cactuses,  pinks,  buffalo  grass,  wild  sage  — 
the  receding  prospective,  and  the  far  circle-line  of  the 
horizon  all  times  of  day,  especially  forenoon  —  the  clear, 
pure,  cool,  rarefied  nutriment  for  the  lungs,  previously  quite 
unknown  —  the  black  patches  and  streaks  left  by  surface- 
conflagrations  —  the  deep-plow'd  furrow  of  the  '  fire- 
guard '  —  the  slanting  snow- racks  built  all  along  to  shield 
the  railroad  from  winter  drifts  —  the  prairie-dogs  and  the 
herds  of  antelope  —  the  curious  (  dry  rivers  '  —  occasion- 
ally a  f  dugout '  or  corral  —  Fort  Riley  and  Fort  Wallace 
—  those  towns  of  the  Northern  plains  (like  ships  on  the 
sea)  Eagle-Tail,  Coyote",  Cheyenne,  Agate,  Monotony,  Kit 
Carson  —  with  ever  the  ant-hill  and  the  buffalo -wallow  — 
ever  the  herds  of  cattle  and  the  cowboy  ('  cow-punchers  ') 
to  me  a  strangely  interesting  class,  bright-eyed  as  hawks, 
with  their  swarthy  complexions  and  their  broad-brimm'd 
hats  —  apparently  always  on  horseback,  with  loose  arms 
slightly  raised  and  swinging  as  they  ride." 

—  WALT  WHITMAN  :  Specimen  Days.          By  permission. 

"  The  quality  of  mercy  is  not  strained, 
It  droppeth  as  the  gentle  rain  from  heaven 
Upon  the  place  beneath  :  it  is  twice  blest ; 
It  blesseth  him  that  gives  and  him  that  takes : 
'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest :  it  becomes 
The  throned  monarch  better  than  his  crown ; 
His  scepter  shows  the  force  of  temporal  power, 
The  attribute  to  awe  and  majesty, 


DEFINITION  47 

Wherein  doth  sit  the  dread  and  fear  of  kings ; 
But  mercy  is  above  this  scepter'd  sway ; 
It  is  enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  kings, 
It  is  an  attribute  to  God  himself; 
And  earthly  power  doth  then  show  likest  God's 
When  mercy  seasons  justice  —  therefore,  Jew, 
Though  justice  be  thy  plea,  consider  this, 
That,  in  the  course  of  justice,  none  of  us 
Should  see  salvation  :  we  do  pray  for  mercy ; 
And  that  same  prayer  doth  teach  us  all  to  render 
The  deeds  of  mercy." 

—  SHAKESPEARE  :  Merchant  of  Venice. 

"The  family  is  a  good  institution  because  it  is  uncon- 
genial. It  is  wholesome  precisely  because  it  contains  so 
many  divergences  and  varieties.  It  is,  as  the  sentimen- 
talists say,  like  a  little  kingdom,  and,  like  most  other  little 
kingdoms,  is  generally  in  a  state  of  something  resembling 
anarchy.  It  is  exactly  because  our  brother  George  is  not 
interested  in  our  religious  difficulties,  but  is  interested  in 
the  Trocadero  Restaurant,  that  the  family  has  some  of  the 
bracing  qualities  of  the  commonwealth.  It  is  precisely  be- 
cause our  Uncle  Henry  does  not  approve  of  the  theatrical 
ambitions  of  our  sister  Sarah  that  the  family  is  like  human- 
ity. The  men  and  women  who,  for  good  reasons  and  bad, 
revolt  against  the  family  are  for  good  reasons  and  bad,  sim- 
ply revolting  against  mankind.  Aunt  Elizabeth  is  unreason- 
able, like  mankind.  Papa  is  excitable,  like  mankind.  Our 
youngest  brother  is  mischievous,  like  mankind.  Grandpapa 
is  stupid,  like  the  world ;  he  is  old,  like  the  world. 

"  Those  who  wish,  rightly  or  wrongly,  to  step  out  of  all 
this,  do  definitely  wish  to  step  into  a  narrower  world.  They 


48  THE  PROCESSES   OF  EXPOSITION 

are  dismayed  and  terrified  by  the  largeness  and  variety  of 
the  family.     Sarah  wishes  to  find  a  world  wholly  consist- 
ing  of   private   theatricals;    George   wishes   to   think   the 
Trocadero  a  cosmos."  —  G.  K.  CHESTERTON:  Heretics. 
By  permission  of  the  John  Lane  Company. 

"The  energy  of  the  mind  or  of  the  soul  —  for  it  welds  all 
psychical  activities — which  is  the  agent  of  our  world-winnings 
and  the  procreator  of  our  growing  life,  we  term  imagination. 
It  is  distinguished  from  perception  by  its  relative  freedom 
from  the  dictation  of  sense  ;  it  is  distinguished  from  memory 
by  its  power  to  acquire,  —  memory  only  retains ;  it  is  distin- 
guished from  emotion  in  being  a  force  rather  than  a  motive ; 
from  the  understanding  in  being  an  assimilator  rather  than 
the  mere  weigher  of  what  is  set  before  it  ;  from  the  will, 
because  the  will  is  but  the  wielder  of  the  reins,  —  the  will  is 
but  the  charioteer,  the  imagination  is  the  Pharaoh  in  com- 
mand. It  is  distinguished  from  all  these,  yet  it  includes 
them  all,  for  it  is  the  full  functioning  of  the  whole  mind,  and 
in  the  total  activity  drives  all  mental  faculties  to  its  one 
supreme  end  —  the  widening  of  the  world  wherein  we  dwell. 
Through  beauty  the  world  grows,  and  it  is  the  business  of 
the  imagination  to  create  the  beautiful.  The  imagination 
synthesizes,  humanizes,  personalizes,  illumines  reality  with 
the  soul's  most  intimate  moods,  and  so  exalts  with  spiritual 
understandings." 

—  HARTLEY  BURR  ALEXANDER  :  Poetry  and  the  Individual. 
Copyright,  1906,  by  Hartley  Burr  Alexander. 

"  I  propose  to  go  on  now  to  discuss  the  mental  quality  of 
America  as  I  have  been  able  to  focus  it  ...  and  first,  and 
chiefly,  I  have  to  convey  what  seems  to  me  the  most  signifi- 
cant and  pregnant  thing  of  all.  It  is  a  matter  of  something 


DEFINITION  49 

wanting,  that  the  American  shares  with  the  great  mass  of 
prosperous  middle-class  people  in  England.  I  think  it  is 
best  indicated  by  saying  that  the  typical  American  has  no 
'  sense  of  the  state/  I  do  not  mean  that  he  is  not  passion- 
ately and  vigorously  patriotic.  But  I  mean  that  he  has  no 
perception  that  his  business  activities,  his  private  employ- 
ments, are  constituents  in  a  larger  collective  process ;  that 
they  affect  other  people  and  the  world  forever,  and  cannot, 
as  he  imagines,  begin  and  end  with  him.  He  sees  the  world 
in  fragments  ;  it  is  to  him  a  multitudinous  collection  of  indi- 
vidual '  stories  '  —  as  the  newspapers  put  it.  If  one  studies 
an  American  newspaper,  one  discovers  it  is  all  individuality, 
all  a  matter  of  personal  doings,  of  what  so  and  so  said  and 
how  so  and  so  felt.  And  all  these  individualities  are  unfused. 
Not  a  touch  of  abstraction  or  generalization,  no  thinnest 
atmosphere  of  reflection,  mitigates  these  harsh,  emphatic, 
isolated  happenings.  The  American,  it  seems  to  me,  has 
yet  to  achieve  what  is,  after  all,  the  product  of  education 
and  thought,  the  conception  of  a  whole  to  which  all 
individual  acts  and  happenings  are  subordinate  and  con- 
tributory."—  H.  G.  WELLS:  The  Future  in  America. 
Copyright,  1906,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 

5.  Choose  any  of  the  selections  that  have  been 
given,  for  a  model,  and  write  a  paragraph   of   ap- 
proximate definition  on  a  parallel  topic. 

6.  Choose  a  subject  for  a  theme  and  develop  it  by 
approximate   definition,  giving    first  its  qualities   or 
manifestations  by  denial  and  affirmation  ;  next,  com- 
pare  it   suggestively  with    several    things   in   quick 
succession ;  compare  it  at  length  with  some  one  thing ; 
give  a  complete  definition  of  it. 

EXPOSITION — 4 


ANALYSIS 

PRELIMINARY  ANALYSIS 

HAVING  discussed  definition,  the  process  that  views 
a  subject  in  its  entirety,  we  are  ready  to  consider 
analysis,  the  process  that  resolves  a  subject  into  its 
constituent  parts.  To  say  that  analysis  assumes  some- 
thing to  be  divided,  a  unit,  to  begin  with,  would  seem 
to  be  to  utter  a  self-evident  truth,  yet  we  shall 
often  find  ourselves  going  to  work  as  if  analysis  were 
a  piecing  together  of  fragments  to  form  a  mosaic  — 
we  start  with  no  unified  idea,  but  instead,  seek  to 
compose,  to  construct  a  unit  out  of  scraps.  The  re- 
sult of  such  work  is  apt  to  show  traces  of  its  scrap-bag 
origin.  If  it  is  not  actually  in  disconnected  sections, 
at  least  the  seams  are  perceptible.  We  should  try  at 
the  outset  to  take  a  comprehensive  view  of  our  sub- 
ject, and  by  analysis  discover  what  natural  divisions 
a  discussion  of  it  should  fall  into  for  its  best  presen- 
tation. 

A  scientific  division  requires  that  the  parts  taken 
together  should  equal  the  whole,  no  more,  no  less. 
A  division  of  which  this  is  true  is  an  exhaustive  divi- 
sion. In  composition,  the  completeness  of  division 
must  be  determined  by  the  purpose  of  the  writer. 

50 


ANALYSIS  51 

If  I  were  writing  for  a  college  catalogue,  it  would  be 
important  to  mention  special  students,  graduate  stu- 
dents, and  all  possible  classes  of  students  ;  but  for  a 
college  song  the  customary  division  of  the  student 
body  into  freshmen,  sophomores,  juniors,  and  seniors, 
would  be  thorough  enough.  Lamb  divided  mankind 
into  two  races  :  borrowers  and  lenders.  For  the 
sake  of  completeness  he  would  have  been  obliged  to 
add,  those  who  neither  borrow  nor  lend,  and  those 
who  both  borrow  and  lend.  But  an  exhaustive  divi- 
sion did  not  suit  his  purpose ;  he  seized  upon  those 
divisions  that  concerned  him,  and  rejected,  if  he  saw, 
the  others. 

For  ordinary  purposes  it  is  neither  necessary  nor 
desirable  to  make  an  exhaustive  division.  In  most 
cases  an  informal  partition,  including  only  what  the 
writer  wants  to  write  about,  takes  the  place  of  a  divi- 
sion that  includes  all  the  parts  of  a  subject,  or  all 
conceivable  particular  phases  of  the  subject.  The 
paper  that  is  written  as  the  amplification  of  an  an- 
alysis or  outline  that  is  exhaustive,  is  wanting  in 
purpose  and  in  interest.  There  are  phases  of  the 
subject  that  are  too  well  known  or  too  unimportant 
to  require  exposition,  or  too  profound  to  be  treated 
intelligently  by  the  writer.  If,  for  the  sake  of  com- 
pleteness and  symmetry,  these  points  are  included  in 
the  outline,  and  presented  in  the  development  of  the 
outline,  the  result  is  unreadable.  Nothing  is  left  to 


52  THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 

the  reader's  intelligence.  The  writer  has  not  limited 
himself  to  that  part  of  the  subject  on  which  he  has 
something  to  say.  More  jejune  school  composition 
work  is  due  to  the  student's  attempt  to  "cover  the 
ground"  —  to  leave  no  division  of  the  subject  with- 
out presentation  and  discussion,  than  to  any  other 
mistaken  ideal  of  writing. 

It  is,  then,  important  to  have  a  comprehensive 
view,  not  of  the  subject  unrestricted,  but  of  the  sub- 
ject as  you  intend  to  treat  it.  In  other  words,  you 
should  know  at  the  outset  the  sum  of  what  you  will 
write.  The  best  test  of  your  general  grasp  of  your 
subject  for  writing  is  the  same  as  that  by  which  you 
gauge  your  grasp  of -what  you  have  read.  If  you 
want  to  be  sure  that  from  the  first  reading  you 
have  comprehended  the  trend  of  an  article  or  a  story, 
you  write  a  summary  of  it.  So,  if  you  wish  to  be 
sure  you  know  the  purpose  and  trend  of  what  you 
want  to  write,  you  will  set  it  before  yourself  in  the 
shape  of  a  summary.  A  summary  of  a  prospective 
paper  should  be  made  before  an  outline  is  begun. 
They  differ  in  that  the  summary  is  synthetic,  the  out- 
line analytic ;  the  summary  seeks  to  bring  the  whole 
into  one  connected  view ;  the  outline  places  the  em- 
phasis on  the  parts  and  shows  the  whole  in  its  rami- 
fications. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  of  his  Lectures  on 
Race-Power,  Professor  Woodberry  gives  a  transitional 


ANALYSIS  53 

paragraph  that  furnishes  an  admirable  summary  of 
the  whole  series  of  lectures.     He  says: — 

"  The  general  principle  which  I  have  endeavored  to  set 
forth  in  the  first  four  lectures  is  that  mankind,  in  the  process 
of  civilization,  stores  up  race-power,  in  one  or  another  form, 
so  that  it  is  a  continually  growing  fund ;  and  that  literature, 
preeminently,  is  such  a  store  of  spiritual  race-power,  de- 
rived originally  from  the  historical  life,  or  from  the  general 
experience  of  men,  and  transformed  by  imagination  so  that 
all  which  is  not  necessary  falls  away  from  it,  and  what  is  left 
is  truth  in  its  simplest,  most  vivid  and  vital  form.  Thus  I 
instanced  mythology,  chivalry,  and  the  Scriptures,  as  three 
such  sifted  deposits  of  the  past;  and  I  illustrated  the  use 
poetry  makes  of  such  race-images  and  race-ideas,  by  the 
example  of  the  myth  of  the  Titans.  In  the  remaining  four 
lectures  I  desire  to  approach  the  same  general  principle  of 
the  storing  of  race-power  from  the  starting  point  of  the  in- 
dividual author  —  to  set  forth  Spenser,  Milton,  Wordsworth, 
and  Shelley,  not  in  their  personality,  but  as  race-exponents, 
and  to  show  that  their  essential  greatness  and  value  are  due 
to  the  degree  in  which  they  availed  themselves  of  the  race- 
store." — GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY  :  The  Torch. 

Copyright,  1905,  byMcClure,  Phillips  &  Co.     By  permission. 

Such  a  summary  makes  clear  to  the  writer  what  he 
must  exclude ;  it  prevents  his  admitting  what  may 
come  under  the  general  subject,  but  does  not  con- 
tribute to  his  purpose  with  reference  to  the  sub- 
ject, and  so  prevents  his  cumbering  his  paper  with 
material  that  would  really  violate  unity.  Further, 
the  summary  shows  him  what  he  may  include ;  it 
enables  him  to  see  the  propriety  of  admitting  topics 


54  THE  PROCESSES   OF  EXPOSITION 

that,  without  its  guidance,  he  might  feel  forced  to 
exclude.  It  is  a  rule  of  analysis  that  divisions  must 
not  be  overlapping,  they  must  be  mutually  exclusive ; 
that  is,  no  two  divisions  must  include  the  same  material. 
If  one  were  writing  about  the  students  of  a  college, 
and  were  to  make  the  headings  in  his  outline,  grinds, 
self-supporting  students,  athletes,  fraternity  men, 
parasites,  his  divisions  would  be  open  to  the  criticism 
that  they  were  overlapping,  since  the  self-supporting 
student  might  be  a  grind,  an  athlete,  or  a  fraternity 
man,  and  a  fraternity  man  might  be  a  self-supporting 
student  and  an  athlete  as  well.  If,  however,  he  had 
begun  with  the  following  summary,  a  legitimate  basis 
for  division,  the  dominant  unacademic  interest,  would 
stand  revealed.  "  College  society  is  no  longer  homo- 
geneous ;  many  interests  aside  from  those  of  the 
scholar  demand  the  modern  student's  time  and  atten- 
tion. The  bookworm  is  there,  but  he  is  no  longer 
the  college  type.  The  gridiron-hero,  the  athlete,  is 
the  most  conspicuous  of  those  having  a  dominant 
unacademic  interest.  Less  obtrusive,  but  quite  as 
distinctive,  types  are  the  self-supporting  student,  the 
society  man,  the  parasite."  From  this  point  of  view 
the  divisions  are  not  overlapping.  He  is  ready  to 
begin  his  outline  as  follows :  — 

College  types :  — 

I.    Students    whose  only   interest   is  in   study  — 
"grinds." 


ANALYSIS  55 

II.  Students  who  have  dominant  unacademic  in- 
terests — 

A.  The  athlete. 

B.  The  fraternity  man. 

C.  The  self-supporting  man,  etc. 

Divisions  at  cross-purposes  interfere  with  right 
selection  of  material  and  right  arrangement  as  well. 
Unless  we  have  a  uniform  motive  for  division,  our 
arrangement  must  be  confused  ;  we  shall  be  con- 
stantly darting  forward  and  running  back,  instead  of 
making  steady  progress.  In  a  general  way  we  may 
say  that  analysis  gives  the  parts  or  elements  that  con- 
stitute an  object;  groups  of  parts  or  elements,  and 
particular  properties,  or  groups  of  properties.  As  a 
rule  we  should  not  rank  as  coordinate  topics,  ele- 
ments and  groups  of  elements,  since  the  groups  may 
include  the  several  elements  ;  nor  should  we  rank  as 
coordinate,  elements  and  properties,  as  the  properties 
pertain  to  the  elements,  and  will  be  discussed  in  con- 
nection with  the  elements.  If  a  boy  planning  to 
write  about  a  house  divides  his  subjects  under  the 
heads,  its  convenience,  its  beauty,  its  cost,  the  rooms, 
the  basement,  the  kitchen,  the  plan,  —  we  can  detect 
no  common  motive  for  division;  we  find  properties, 
parts,  and  groups  of  parts  jumbled  together.  The 
first  three  topics  evidently  are  not  coordinate  with 
the  last  four ;  under  convenience  the  writer  would 
probably  consider  the  basement,  the  kitchen,  and 


56  THE  PROCESSES   OF  EXPOSITION 

the  plan  in  general,  besides  many  topics  not  given  in 
the  list.  Under  beauty  he  would  certainly  consider  the 
rooms.  Further,  rooms  and  kitchen  are  not  coordi- 
nate, as  rooms  would  include  kitchen. 

To  be  quite  sure  that  the  analysis  covers  those 
phases  of  the  subject  he  wishes  to  treat  and  that  the 
divisions  call  for  no  repetition,  the  student  should 
form  the  habit  of  writing  out  a  complete  outline  be- 
fore he  attempts  to  write  an  exposition.  If  his  sum- 
mary has  been  previously  made,  he  will  start  in  the 
right  way,  conceiving  of  outline  making  as  a  parting 
of  a  unit.  His  first  business  will  be  to  decide  what 
general  phases  of  his  subject  he  must  treat  to  bring 
out  his  main  idea.  Having  decided  upon  all  of  the 
main  divisions,  he  should  take  them  up  one  at  a  time, 
analyzing  each  fully  before  proceeding  to  the  next. 
In  the  analysis  of  the  successive  subtopics,  all  of  the 
chief  divisions  of  a  topic  should  be  determined  before 
the  subdivision  of  any  one  of  them  is  considered. 
Thus,  if  we  were  writing  about  a  kind  of  fish,  we 
might  feel  certain  that  we  wished  to  tell  about  its  ap- 
pearance. We  should  not,  however,  employ  ourselves 
upon  the  subdivision  of  that  topic  into  size,  form, 
color,  features,  until  after  we  have  determined  the 
general  divisions,  coordinate  with  it,  as  its  habits,  its 
value,  that  are  to  receive  our  attention  in  the  course 
of  the  outline.  Persistence  in  this  order  of  procedure 
will  do  something  toward  breaking  up  habits  of  frag- 


ANALYSIS  57 

mentary  thinking,  of  catching  at  a  corner  of  a  subject 
instead  of  taking  a  broad,  clear  view  of  it. 

Then,  just  as  in  reading  an  outline,  instead  of  fol- 
lowing it  line  by  line,  we  glance  down  the  page  for 
the  main  divisions,  so  in  writing  an  outline  for  our 
own  guidance,  we  jot  down  first  the  chief  divisions. 
If  our  subject  is  The  Loach,  our  first  step  toward 
making  an  outline  is  to  reach  the  principal  divisions ; 
let  us  say  they  are :  — 
I.    Its  appearance. 
II.    Its  habits. 

III.    Its  value. 

The  second  step  is  to  answer  the  question,  What 
points  shall  be  considered  under  appearance?  If  the 
answer  is  to  be, 

A.  Size, 

B.  Form, 

C.  Color, 

we  are  not  free  to  subdivide  A.  Size,  until  B.  and  C. 
have  been  decided  upon.  We  may  then,  however, 
take  them  in  turn  and  find  their  subdivisions  and 
subsubdivisions,  and  when  that  is  done  proceed 
to  II.  Its  habits,  treating  this  topic  in  the  same 
manner. 

The  working  order  is  somewhat  different  from  the 
order  of  the  finished  outline,  whose  purpose  is  to 
make  the  relation  of  the  parts  clear.  The  working 
order  as  has  been  explained  is  as  follows  ;  — • 


THE   PROCESSES   OF   EXPOSITION 


The  Loach : — 

I.    Its  appearance. 
II.    Its  habits. 
III.    Its  value. 

I.    Its  appearance. 

A.  Size. 

B.  Form. 

C.  Color. 

I.   A.    Size. 

1.  Length. 

2.  Thickness. 

I.   B.    Form. 

1.  General    out- 

line. 

2.  Particular  fea- 

tures. 


I.    C.    Color. 

1.  General  color. 

2.  Spots. 

II.    Its  habits. 

A .  Places  frequented. 

B.  Feeding. 

C.  Breeding. 

II.   A.   Places  frequented. 

1.  Regions. 

2.  Kind  of  streams. 

3.  Parts  of  streams. 

II.   B.    Feeding. 

1.  Food. 

2.  Manner    of 

taking  it. 


I.   B.    2.  Particular  fea- 
tures. II.    C.    Breeding. 

a.  Wattles.     III.    Its  value. 

b.  Fins.  A.    Nourishment. 

c.  Tail.  B.    Flavor. 

While  this  is  the  most  significant  order  in  con- 
structing an  outline,  it  is  not  satisfactory  for  the  fin- 
ished outline,  since  it  is  much  less  graphic  than  the 
following  order:  — 


ANALYSIS  59 

The  Loach :  — 

I.    Appearance. 

A.  Size. 

1.  Length. 

2.  Thickness. 

B.  Form. 

1.  General  outline. 

2.  Particular  features. 

a.  Wattles. 

b.  Fins. 

c.  Tail. 

C.  Color. 

1.  General  color. 

2.  Spots. 

II.    Habits. 

A.  Places  frequented. 

1.  Regions. 

2.  Kind  of  streams. 

3.  Parts  of  streams. 

B.  Feeding. 

1.  Food. 

2.  Manner  of  taking  it. 

C.  Breeding. 

III.    Value. 

A.  Nourishment. 

B.  Flavor. 

NOTE  TO  INSTRUCTOR.     The  instructor  will  notice  that  top- 


60  THE  PROCESSES   OF  EXPOSITION 

ics  rather  than  sentences  are  used  in  this  outline.  There  are 
several  reasons  for  this  :  In  the  first  place  the  topical  outline 
is  much  less  laborious  to  write  than  a  sentence  outline  — 
always  an  important  consideration  and  particularly  so  with 
reference  to  the  outline,  which  is  fundamentally  an  effort- 
saving  device ;  in  the  second  place  the  brief  and  graphic 
topical  outline  accomplishes  better  the  outline's  purpose  of 
picturing  to  the  eye  the  parts  of  the  discourse  and  their  rela- 
tion ;  in  the  next  place  the  topical  outline  is  more  flexible, 
dominates  the  paragraph  less  rigidly,  and  is  less  apt  to  lead 
the  student  into  rigid,  monotonous  sentences  baldly  stating 
relationship.  Finally,  when,  in  argumentation,  the  particular 
sentence  form  and  relationship  demanded  by  the  brief  are 
reached,  the  student  is  less  confused  and  more  likely  to  use 
the  right  kind  of  sentences  if  the  sentence  outline  is  for 
him  an  entirely  new  method. 

In  such  an  outline  as  this  it  is  better  to  use  words 
or  phrases  to  indicate  headings  than  to  use  sentences. 
Coordinate  topics  should,  so  far  as  possible,  be  given 
similar  form.  For  convenience  in  marking  and  dis- 
cussing outlines,  it  is  desirable  that  the  method  of 
indicating  the  parts  should  be  uniform.  The  practice 
employed  in  the  outline  given,  Roman  numerals  for 
the  principal  divisions,  capital  letters  for  the  next 
lower  divisions,  Arabic  numerals  for  the  next,  then 
small  letters,  then  numerals  in  parentheses,  and  so 
on  —  is  recommended  as  simple  and  intelligible. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  we  cannot  divide 
and  get  as  a  result  less  than  two  parts.  This  means 
that  we  should  never  have  in  an  outline  one  subtopic 


ANALYSIS  6l 

without  another  of  the  same  rank.  That  is,  it  would 
not  do  if  you  were  writing  about  Turner's  Slave  Ship, 
to  give  color  alone  as  a  subtopic  under  beauty.  If 
you  were  not  going  to  speak  of  beauty  of  line,  but  of 
beauty  of  color  alone,  that  part  of  your  outline  would 
be,  not 

C.   Beauty 

i.    Color, 
but  rather, 

C.   Beauty  —  color. 

EXERCISES 

i.    Read  the  following  passage  carefully  and 
(a)  Write  a  summary  of  it. 
(#)   Make  a  careful  outline  of  it. 

"  Different  indeed  is  the  atmosphere  in  which  Scotch  and 
English  youth  begin  to  look  about  them,  come  to  themselves 
in  life,  and  gather  up  those  first  apprehensions  which  are 
the  material  of  future  thought  and,  to  a  great  extent,  the 
rule  of  future  conduct.  I  have  been  to  school  in  both  coun- 
tries, and  I  found,  in  the  boys  of  the  North,  something  at 
once  rougher  and  more  tender,  at  once  more  reserve  and 
more  expansion,  a  greater  habitual  distance  chequered 
by  glimpses  of  a  nearer  intimacy,  and  on  the  whole  wider 
extremes  of  temperament  and  sensibility.  The  boy  of  the 
South  seems  more  wholesome,  but  less  thoughtful ;  he  gives 
himself  to  games  as  to  a  business,  striving  to  excel,  but  is 
not  readily  transported  by  imagination;  the  type  remains 
with  me  as  cleaner  in  mind  and  body,  more  active,  fonder 
of  eating,  endowed  with  a  lesser  and  a  less  romantic 


62  THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 

sense  of  life  and  of  the  future,  and  more  immersed  in  present 
circumstances.  And  certainly,  for  one  thing,  English  boys 
are  younger  for  their  age.  Sabbath  observance  makes  a 
series  of  grim,  and  perhaps  serviceable,  pauses  in  the  tenor 
of  Scotch  boyhood  —  days  of  great  stillness  and  solitude  for 
the  rebellious  mind,  when  in  the  dearth  of  books  and  play, 
and  in  the  intervals  of  studying  the  Shorter  Catechism,  the 
intellect  and  senses  prey  upon  and  test  each  other.  The 
typical  English  Sunday,  with  the  huge  midday  dinner  and 
plethoric  afternoon,  leads  perhaps  to  different  results.  About 
the  very  cradle  of  the  Scot  there  goes  a  hum  of  metaphysical 
divinity ;  and  the  whole  of  two  divergent  systems  is  summed 
up,  not  merely  speciously,  in  the  two  first  questions  of  the 
rival  catechisms,  the  English  tritely  inquiring,  *  What  is  your 
name  ? '  the  Scottish  striking  at  the  very  roots  of  life  with, 
'What  is  the  chief  end  of  man?'  and  answering  nobly,  if 
obscurely,  '  To  glorify  God  and  to  enjoy  Him  forever.'  I 
do  not  wish  to  make  an  idol  of  the  Shorter  Catechism ;  but 
the  fact  of  such  a  question  being  asked  opens  to  us  Scotch 
a  great  field  of  speculation ;  and  the  fact  that  it  is  asked  of 
all  of  us,  from  the  peer  to  the  plowboy,  binds  us  more 
nearly  together.  No  Englishman  of  Byron's  age,  character, 
and  history,  would  have  had  patience  for  long  theological 
discussions  on  the  way  to  fight  for  Greece ;  but  the  daft 
Gordon  blood  and  the  Aberdonian  school  days  kept  their  in- 
fluence to  the  end.  We  have  spoken  of  the  material  con- 
ditions ;  nor  need  much  more  be  said  of  these  :  of  the  land 
lying  everywhere  more  exposed,  of  the  wind  always  louder 
and  bleaker,  of  the  black,  roaring  winters,  of  the  gloom  of 
high-lying,  old  stone  cities,  imminent  on  the  windy  seaboard ; 
compared  with  the  level  streets,  the  warm  coloring  of  the 
brick,  the  domestic  quaintness  of  the  architecture,  among 


ANALYSIS  63 

which  English  children  begin  to  grow  up  and  come  to  them- 
selves in  life.  As  the  stage  of  the  university  approaches,  the 
contrast  becomes  more  express.  The  English  lad  goes  to 
Oxford  or  Cambridge  ;  there,  in  an  ideal  world  of  gardens,  to 
lead  a  semi-scenic  life,  costumed,  disciplined,  and  drilled  by 
proctors.  Nor  is  this  to  be  regarded  merely  as  a  stage  of 
education ;  it  is  a  piece  of  privilege  besides  and  a  step  that 
separates  him  further  from  the  bulk  of  his  compatriots.  At 
an  earlier  age  the  Scottish  lad  begins  his  greatly  different 
experience  of  crowded  class  rooms,  of  a  gaunt  quadrangle, 
of  a  bell  hourly  booming  over  the  traffic  of  the  city  to  recall 
him  from  the  public-house  where  he  has  been  lunching,  or 
the  streets  where  he  has  been  wandering  fancy-free.  His 
college  life  has  little  of  restraint,  and  nothing  of  necessary 
gentility.  He  will  find  no  quiet  clique  of  the  exclusive, 
studious,  and  cultured  ;  no  rotten  borough  of  the  arts.  All 
classes  rub  shoulder  on  the  greasy  benches.  The  raffish 
young  gentleman  in  gloves  must  measure  his  scholarship 
with  the  plain,  clownish  laddie  from  the  parish  school. 
They  separate,  at  the  session's  end,  one  to  smoke  cigars 
about  a  watering-place,  the  other  to  resume  the  labors  of 
the  field  beside  his  peasant  family.  The  first  muster  of  a 
college  class  in  Scotland  is  a  scene  of  curious  and  painful  in- 
terest; so  many  lads,  fresh  from  the  heather,  hang  round 
the  stove  in  cloddish  embarrassment,  ruffled  by  the  presence 
of  their  smarter  comrades,  and  afraid  of  the  sound  of  their 
own  rustic  voices.  It  was  in  these  early  days,  I  think,  that 
Professor  Blackie  won  the  affection  of  his  pupils,  putting 
these  uncouth,  umbrageous  students  at  their  ease  with  ready 
human  geniality.  Thus,  at  least,  we  have  a  healthy,  demo- 
cratic atmosphere  to  breathe  in  while  at  work ;  even  when 
there  is  no  cordiality,  there  is  always  a  juxtaposition  of  the 


64  THE  PROCESSES  OF  EXPOSITION 

different  classes,  and  in  the  competition  of  study  the  intellec- 
tual power  of  each  is  plainly  demonstrated  to  the  other. 
Our  tasks  ended,  we  of  the  North  go  forth  as  freemen  into 
the  humming,  lamplit  city.  At  five  o'clock  you  may  see  the 
last  of  us  hiving  from  the  college  gates,  in  the  glare  of  the 
shop  windows,  under  the  green  glimmer  of  the  winter  sunset. 
The  frost  tingles  in  our  blood ;  no  proctor  lies  in  wait  to  in- 
tercept us  ;  till  the  bell  sounds  again,  we  are  the  masters  of 
the  world  ;  and  some  portion  of  our  lives  is  always  Saturday, 
la  treve  de  Dieu." — ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON:  The  For- 
eigner at  Home. 

By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

2.  Indicate  possible  places  for  paragraph  inden- 
tions in  the  foregoing  selection. 

3.  Select  three  of  the  following  subjects  and  plan 
two  quite  different  papers  on  each ;  write  a  summary 
and  an  outline  for  each  paper :  — 

(a)  Christmas  presents. 

(b)  My  hobby. 

(c)  Newspapers. 

(d)  Winter  sports. 

(e)  Traveling. 
(/)  Friendship. 
(g)  Patriotism. 

THE  MANIFESTATION  OF  ANALYSIS  IN  COMPLETED 
WORK 

Firmness  of  structure  is  one  of  the  indispensable 
requirements  of  serious  exposition.  It  is  dependent 
on  full,  clear  analysis  and  a  well-ordered  outline.  In 


ANALYSIS  65 

the  finished  work  the  divisions  are  sometimes  declared, 
but  not  always.  If  the  work  is  of  an  informal  charac- 
ter, the  preliminary  analysis  usually  makes  itself  felt 
indirectly.  The  writer  is  guided  by  his  outline  in  the 
selection  and  the  arrangement  of  his  material,  but  he 
does  not  necessarily  announce  the  plan  he  is  follow- 
ing. He  leaves  it  to  the  intelligence  of  the  reader  to 
discover  that  for  himself. 

The  student  will  find  no  difficulty  in  following 
the  outline  of  the  following  paragraph  :  — 

"The  loach  is,  as  I  told  you,  a  most  dainty  fish;  he 
breeds  and  feeds  in  little  and  clear,  swift  brooks  or  rills,  and 
lives  there  upon  the  gravel  and  in  the  sharpest  streams  :  he 
grows  not  to  be  above  a  finger  long,  and  no  thicker  than  is 
suitable  to  that  length.  This  loach  is  not  unlike  the  shape 
of  the  eel ;  he  has  a  beard  or  wattles  like  a  barbel.  He  has 
two  fins  at  his  sides,  four  at  his  belly,  and  one  at  his  tail ; 
he  is  dappled  with  many  black  or  brown  spots ;  his  mouth  is 
barbel-like  under  his  nose.  This  fish  is  usually  full  of  eggs 
or  spawn,  and  is  by  Gesner,  and  other  learned  physicians, 
commended  for  great  nourishment,  and  to  be  very  grateful 
both  to  the  palate  and  stomach  of  sick  persons  :  he  is  to  be 
fished  for  with  a  very  small  worm  at  the  bottom,  for  he  very 
seldom  or  never  rises  above  the  gravel,  on  which  I  told  you 
he  usually  gets  his  living." 

—  IZAAK  WALTON  :   The  Complete  Angler. 

Though  the  writer  uses  no  terms  to  aid  us  in  group- 
ing the  details  he  gives,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  he  has 
three  main  divisions  —  the  habits  of  the  loach,  its  ap- 
pearance, and  its  food  value.  It  is  not  necessary,  then, 

EXPOSITION  —  5 


66  THE   PROCESSES   OF   EXPOSITION 

that  you  announce  your  plan  so  long  as  you  have  one 
and  adhere  to  it. 

There  are  certain  mechanical  means  for  indicating 
the  plan  that  should  not  be  disregarded ;  namely,  para- 
graph indentions  and  punctuation.  Had  each  of  the 
three  principal  divisions  been  more  fully  developed,  a 
separate  paragraph  should  have  been  devoted  to  each. 
As  it  is,  there  should  be  a  full  sentence-stop  between 
divisions.  That  there  is  not,  is,  judged  by  modern 
standards,  a  blunder  in  punctuation. 

In  long  papers  we  often  find  formal  announce- 
ment of  the  partition  of  the  subject.  The  explicit 
statement  of  the  partition  occurs  usually  in  the  intro- 
duction, the  conclusion,  or  in  transitional  paragraphs. 

Partition  at  the  outset  has  usually  one  of  two  pur- 
poses,—  to  narrow  the  subject  of  discussion  or  to  serve 
the  reader  as  a  guide  to  the  plan  of  the  coming  essay. 
In  the  latter  case  the  partition  is  a  partition  of  the 
subject  in  hand;  in  the  first,  it  is  a  partition  of  the 
class  to  which  the  subject  belongs.  When  I  say  ex- 
position is  one  of  the  four  forms  of  discourse,  the  other 
forms  being  description,  narration,  and  argumenta- 
tion, I  have  made  a  division,  not  of  exposition,  but  of 
the  subject  under  which  exposition  falls,  —  discourse. 
The  purpose  of  such  a  partition  is  to  dismiss  from  dis- 
cussion the  three  forms  of  discourse  that  the  loose 
thinker  might  otherwise  confuse  with  exposition.  This 
amounts  in  effect  to  negative  definition.  When  I  say 


ANALYSIS  67 

exposition  proceeds  by  means  of  definition  and  analy- 
sis, I  am  making  a  division  of  the  subject,  exposition. 

In  an  article  on  "  The  Study  of  National  Culture  " 
in  The  Atlantic  Monthly,  March,  1907,  Professor  Kuno 
Fran  eke,  in  his  introductory  paragraph,  makes  a  di- 
vision, not  to  forecast  his  plan,  but  to  show  the  relation 
of  his  subject  to  a  larger  subject.  He  says :  — 

"  The  history  of  a  nation  may  be  studied  under  two  main 
heads,  —  civilization  and  culture.  When  we  speak  of  na- 
tional civilization,  we  mean  thereby  all  that  contributes  to 
the  shape  of  the  outward  conditions  and  conduct  of  life : 
the  modes  of  gaining  a  livelihood,  the  organization  of  the 
family,  the  forms  of  domestic  and  public  custom,  social 
gradations,  political,  legal,  and  ecclesiastical  institutions, 
and  the  friendly  or  hostile  contact  with  other  nations. 
When  we  speak  of  national  culture,  we  mean  thereby  all 
that  contributes  to  shape  the  inner  life,  to  enrich  the  world 
of  feeling,  imagination,  and  thought :  religious  and  philo- 
sophical movements,  tendencies  in  literature  and  art,  ideal 
aspirations,  intellectual  and  spiritual  revelations.  Civiliza- 
tion makes  the  citizen,  culture  makes  the  man ;  civilization 
has  to  do  with  specific  conditions,  culture  has  to  do  with 
values  of  universal  application ;  civilization  is  the  form,  cul- 
ture is  the  content  of  national  consciousness.  But  neither 
of  the  two  can  develop  without  the  other ;  they  constantly 
exert  a  reciprocal  influence  on  each  other ;  and  only  he  who 
has  studied  comprehensively  both  the  civilization  and  the  cul- 
ture of  a  given  nation,  is  in  a  position  to  estimate  what  this 
nation  has  contributed  to  the  whole  of  the  world's  history.'* 
—  KUNO  FRANCKE:  "The  Study  of  National  Culture.'* 
The  Atlantic  Monthly,  March,  1907. 


68  THE   PROCESSES   OF   EXPOSITION 

Ruskin  begins  his  lecture  on  Work  with  a  partition 
of  the  first  class,  narrowing  his  subject  by  dividing 
men  into  two  classes,  the  idle  and  the  industrious, 
and  eliminating  the  idle.  He  then  makes  a  division 
of  the  second  kind,  giving  the  range  of  his  lecture 
and  its  chief  divisions  as  follows  :  — 

"These  separations  we  will  study,  and  the  laws  of  them, 
among  energetic  men  only,  who,  whether  they  work  or 
whether  they  play,  put  their  strength  into  the  work,  and- 
their  strength  into  the  game ;  being  in  the  full  sense  of  the 
word  '  industrious/  one  way  or  another  —  with  a  purpose  or 
without.  And  these  distinctions  are  mainly  four  :  — 

"  I.   Between  those  who  work,  and  those  who  play. 

"  II.  Between  those  who  produce  the  means  of  life,  and 
those  who  consume  them. 

"  III.  Between  those  who  work  with  the  head,  and  those 
who  work  with  the  hand. 

"  IV.  Between  those  who  work  wisely,  and  those  who 
work  foolishly. 

"  For  easier  memory,  let  us  say  we  are  going  to  oppose, 
in  our  examination  :  — 

"  I.   Work  to  play ; 

"  II.   Production  to  consumption ; 

"  III.    Head  to  hand ;  and 

"IV.   Sense  to  nonsense." 

—  JOHN  RUSKIN  :   Work. 

Through  the  lecture,  at  intervals,  the  scheme  or  plan 
of  the  lecture  is  held  before  the  listener's  mind  by  the 
following  sentences :  — 

"  This  then  is  the  first  distinction  between  the  upper  and 


ANALYSIS  69 

lower  classes.  ...  I  pass  then  to  our  second  distinc- 
tion; between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  between  Dives  and 
Lazarus.  ...  I  pass  now  to  our  third  condition  of  sepa- 
ration, between  the  men  who  work  with  the  hand  and 
those  who  work  with  the  head.  ...  I  must  go  on,  how- 
ever, to  our  last  head,  concerning  ourselves  all,  as  workers. 
What  is  wise  work  and  what  is  foolish  work?  What  the  dif- 
ference between  sense  and  nonsense  in  daily  occupation?  " 

These  cementing  passages  that  keep  the  plan  of 
the  whole  in  mind  and  join  the  sections  of  a  discourse 
by  referring  to  the  topics  already  treated  and  point- 
ing forward  to  those  that  remain  to  be  considered,  are 
called  transitions.  In  a  long,  formal,  intricate  paper, 
the  transitions  are  frequently  quite  as  obvious  as  those 
just  quoted  from  Ruskin.  But  in  a  short,  informal 
paper,  the  way  is  indicated,  if  at  all,  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  the  reader  is  scarcely  aware  that  he  is  being 
provided  with  an  outline.  The  warp  of  analysis  is  so 
concealed  by  the  woof  of  definition  that  it  is  distin- 
guished only  by  those  on  the  lookout  for  it. 

Opening  Robert  Louis  Stevenson's  Talk  and  Talk- 
ers^- at  random,  I  find  in  this  informal  paper  by  a 
writer  who  gives  the  impression  of  being  as  far  as 
need  be  from  hard  and  fast  adherence  to  rhetorical 
regulations,  in  the  course  of  a  single  paragraph,  the 
following  introductory  statement  of  plan  and  two 
references  to  it.  The  discussion  of  "  Purcel "  opens 
with  the  statement :  "  He  is  no  debater,  but  appears 

1  By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 


70  THE   PROCESSES   OF   EXPOSITION 

in  conversation,  as  occasion  rises,  in  two  distinct 
characters,  one  of  which  I  admire  and  fear,  and  the 
other  love."  "In  the  first/'  the  writer  proceeds,  "he 
is  radiantly  civil. "  A  few  lines  farther  on  we  are 
again  reminded  of  the  opening  division  of  the  sub- 
ject by  the  clause :  "  and  that  is  one  reason  out  of  a 
score  why  I  prefer  my  Purcel  in  his  second  character, 
when  he  unbends  into  a  strain  of  graceful  gossip, 
singing  like  the  fireside  kettle." 

It  is  well  worth  while  to  cultivate  the  art  of  mak- 
ing transitions  so  that  they  shall  not  stand  apart  and 
attract  attention  to  themselves,  but  shall  do  their 
work  without  obtruding  themselves  on  the  reader's 
consciousness.  When  this  can  be  done,  firmness  of 
structure  and  freedom  of  expression  are  made  to 
seem  consonant  qualities.  Rigidity  and  mechanical 
stiffness  of  movement  are  a  high  price  to  pay  for 
even  so  high  an  excellence  as  an  unimpeachable,  un- 
mistakable structure. 

At  the  close  of  a  paper  there  is  often  a  statement  of 
divisions  of  the  subject.  Here,  as  in  the  introduction, 
the  enumeration  of  the  divisions  may  be  for  the  pur- 
pose of  summary,  a  resurvey  of  the  points  discussed, 
a  recapitulation  of  the  topics  presented,  or  it  may  be 
an  out-reaching  division,  one  that,  viewing  the  dis- 
cussion in  its  entirety,  places  it  as  a  member  of 
a  larger  whole.  In  the  conclusion  to  his  Essay  on 
Style,  Walter  Pater  gives  both  kinds  of  partition :  — 


ANALYSIS  71 

"  Given  the  conditions  I  have  tried  to  explain  as  consti- 
tuting good  art;  —  then,  if  it  be  devoted  further  to  the 
increase  of  men's  happiness,  to  the  redemption  of  the  op- 
pressed, or  the  enlargement  of  our  sympathies  with  each 
other,  or  to  such  presentment  of  new  or  old  truth  about 
ourselves  and  our  relation  to  the  world  as  may  ennoble 
and  fortify  us  in  our  sojourn  here,  or  immediately,  as  with 
Dante,  to  the  glory  of  God,  it  will  be  great  art ;  if,  over  and 
above  those  qualities  I  summed  up  as  mind  and  soul,  —  that 
color  and  mystic  perfume,  and  that  reasonable  structure, — 
it  has  something  of  the  soul  of  humanity  in  it,  and  finds  its 
logical,  its  architectural  place  in  the  great  structure  of  hu- 
man life."  —  WALTER  PATER  :  Style. 

Here  we  find  the  divisions  of  his  own  subject,  mind 
and  soul  or  reasonable  structure  and  color  and  per- 
fume, restated,  and  that  subject,  good  art,  related  to 
great  art. 

It  is,  perhaps,  well  to  caution  the  student  of  ex- 
position at  this  point  against  the  supposition  that  a 
conclusion  must  be  a  summing  up  of  points  made  in 
the  essay.  The  most  effective  conclusion  is,  as  a 
rule,  not  one  that  enumerates  the  topics  discussed, 
but  one  that  flashes  some  new  light  over  them  all,  or 
iterates  in  a  telling  way  the  unifying  note  that  has 
been  sounding  through  the  entire  discourse. 

The  purpose  of  the  declaration  of  partitions  is 
clearness.  A  five  or  ten  page  theme  will  require 
little  announcement  of  its  divisions,  if  the  writer  has 
kept  those  divisions  clearly  before  him  in  writing. 


72  THE   PROCESSES   OF   EXPOSITION 

If  he  has  not  done  so,  the  mere  statement  of  what 
the  divisions  ought  to  be  will  not  lessen  the  con- 
fusion. 

Have  a  full,  clear,  well-organized  outline,  follow  it 
closely,  and  announce  your  plan,  when  needful,  in 
such  a  way  that  your  announcement  will  help  rather 
than  interrupt  the  onward  movement  of  the  thought 
you  are  presenting. 

EXERCISES 

I.  What  is  accomplished  by  the  introduction 
quoted  below? 

"  I  am  not  to  speak  to  you  of  the  history  of  art,  nor  of  its 
theory,  nor  its  philosophy,  except  incidentally.  The  rise  . 
of  the  schools  of  painting,  the  biographies  of  the  great 
painters,  the  nature  of  the  ideal,  the  real  and  the  beautiful, 
you  will  find  in  books.  My  subject  is,  in  one  sense,  of  a 
humbler  nature.  It  is  more  material,  more  technical,  and, 
if  you  choose,  more  practical.  I  shall  speak  of  painting  as 
practiced  by  the  painters  of  to-day  and  yesterday ;  and,  as 
nearly  as  possible,  I  shall  attempt  to  treat  the  subject  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  artist,  not  that  of  the  metaphysician 
nor  that  of  the  public.  It  shall  be  my  endeavor  to  get  at 
the  aim  of  the  painter,  and  to  examine  art-products  in  the 
light  of  the  producer's  intention.  In  doing  this  the  drift  of 
these  lectures  should  be,  not  toward  teaching  one  how  to 
paint  a  picture,  but  rather  toward  giving  one  some  idea 
of  how  to  appreciate  a  picture  after  it  has  been  painted. 
Such,  at  least,  is  their  object,  and  with  this  object  in  view, 
I  shall  endeavor  to  explain  and  illustrate  such  pictorial 


ANALYSIS  73 

motives  as  color,  tone,  atmosphere,  values,  perspective.  I 
shall  call  your  attention,  so  far  as  is  practicable,  to  certain 
well-known  pictures,  pointing  out  their  good  and  bad  quali- 
ties, and  making  my  remarks  apply  as  much  as  possible  to 
modern  art,  of  which  we  have,  perhaps,  too  poor  an  opinion." 

-  J.  C.  VAN  DYKE  :  Art  for  Art's  Sake. 
By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

2.  Study  the  passages  quoted  below  and  tell  what 
their  value  is  :  — 

(a)  "  It  is  easy  to  see  that  a  greater  self-reliance  must 
work  a  revolution  in  all  the  offices  and  relations  of  men ;  in 
their  religion ;  in  their  education ;  in  their  pursuits ;  their 
modes  of  living;    their  association;   in  their  property;   in 
their  speculative  views."  —  EMERSON  :  Self -Reliance. 

By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

(The  next  paragraph  begins,  i.  In  what  prayers,  etc. ; 
the  next,  2.  It  is  for  want  of  self-culture,  etc.) 

(b)  "I  propose  to  mark  firmly  what  is  ridiculous   and 
odious  in  the  Shelley  brought   to   our  knowledge  by  the 
new  materials,  and  then  show  that  our  former  beautiful  and 
lovable  Shelley  nevertheless  survives."  —  ARNOLD:  Shelley. 

(c)  "Let  us  see  these  [Gray's   high   qualities]  in  the 
man  first,  and  then  observe  how  they  appear  in  his  poetry ; 
and  why  they  cannot  enter  into  it  more  freely  and  inspire 
it  with  more  strength,  render  it  more  abundant." 

—  ARNOLD  :   Thomas  Gray. 

(cT)  "  First  each  novel,  and  then  each  class  of  novels, 
exists  by  and  for  itself.  I  will  take,  for  instance,  three  main 
classes,  which  are  fairly  distinct :  first,  the  novel  of  adven- 
ture, which  appeals  to  certain  almost  sensual  and  quite 


74  THE   PROCESSES   OF   EXPOSITION 

illogical  tendencies  in  man ;  second,  the  novel  of  character, 
which  appeals  to  our  intellectual  appreciation  of  man's 
foibles  and  mingled  and  inconstant  motives ;  and  third,  the 
dramatic  novel,  which  deals  with  the  same  stuff  as  the  seri- 
ous theater,  and  appeals  to  our  emotional  nature  and  moral 
judgment." 

—  ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON  :  A  Humble  Remonstrance. 
By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

3.  Notice  the  method  by  which  Emerson  gives  the 
impression  of  having  his  subject  thoroughly  in  hand, 
of  never  losing  the  sense  of  what  he  has  said  and 
what  he  is  about  to  say  in  his  essay  Compensation. 
From  the  following  sentences  occurring  at  the  open- 
ing of  paragraphs,  tell  the  topic  to  be  treated  in  the 
coming  paragraph,  and,  where  it  is  possible,  that  dis- 
posed of  in  the  previous  paragraph  :  — 

(General  introduction  :  "  I  shall  attempt  in  this  and  the 
following  chapter  to  record  some  facts  that  indicate  the  path 
of  the  law  of  compensation.") 

1.  "  Polarity,  or  action  and  reaction,  we  meet  in  every 
part  of  nature ;  in  darkness  and  light ;  in  heat  and  cold ; 
in  the  ebb  and  flow  of  waters." 

2.  "Whilst  the  world  is  thus  dual,  so  is  every  one  of  its 
parts." 

3.  "The  same  dualism  underlies  the  nature  and  condi- 
tion of  man." 

4.  "  This  law  writes  the  laws  of  cities  and  nations." 

5.  "The  human  soul  is  true  to  these  facts  in  the  painting 
of  fable,  of  history,  of  law,  of  proverbs,  of  conversation." 

6.  "  You  cannot  do  wrong  without  suffering  wrong," 


ANALYSIS  75 

7.  "On  the  other  hand,  the  law  holds  with  equal  sureness 
for  all  right  action." 

4.  Study  the  following  paragraphs  and  derive  from 
them  the  central  idea  and  the  chief  topics  discussed 
in  the  paper  to  which  they  form  a  conclusion.  What 
are  the  two  methods  used  in  this  conclusion  ? 

"The  treatment  of  Copley  Square,  on  which  the  library 
faces,  is  the  best  evidence  of  the  quality  of  that  public  life 
which  has  given  Boston  the  most  democratic  administration 
of  the  larger  American  cities.  It  is  a  centrally  located,  tri- 
angular square,  bounded  by  three  of  the  chief  thoroughfares, 
and  faced  by  the  public  library,  the  New  Old  South  church, 
Richardson's  masterpiece,  Trinity  church,  the  art  gallery, 
and  a  number  of  dignified  private  structures.  One  of  the 
last,  an  apartment  house,  was  constructed  in  violation  of  the 
sky  line  established  for  Copley  Square,  and  while  tedious 
litigation  was  necessary  for  the  protection  of  the  aesthetic 
standards  established  by  Boston  authorities,  the  public  inter- 
ests have  finally  triumphed. 

"  It  was  no  mere  quibble  which  led  to  the  prosecution  of  a 
landlord,  who  by  virtue  of  a  doubtful  public  document,  un- 
dertook to  carry  out  the  caprice  of  erecting  a  building  which 
should  by  a  few  feet  of  elevation  do  violence  to  good  taste 
and  the  public  will.  It  was  stern  insistence  on  the  superior 
importance  of  the  public  good  and  merited  rebuke  of  the 
typical  impertinence  of  private  interests.  It  was  the  same 
spirit  which  asserted  by  peaceful  legal  methods  that  the 
function  of  the  railways  was  to  serve  the  traveling  public, 
.  and  that  the  interests  of  the  community  demanded  the 
municipal  ownership  of  the  subway;  the  spirit  which  ig- 
nored the  town  boundaries  and  local  jealousies  and  provided 


76  THE  PROCESSES   OF  EXPOSITION 

water  and  sewerage  systems  which  would  satisfy  the  needs 
of  the  metropolitan  district ;  the  spirit  which  interrupted  the 
private  vandalism  that  was  desecrating  Boston's  natural  en- 
vironment and  consecrated  for  all  time  great  areas  of  natural 
beauty  for  the  promotion  of  life  and  happiness ;  it  was  the 
spirit  which  preserved  the  democracy  of  the  old  town  meet- 
ing, while  it  developed  the  latent  power  of  cooperation  in 
the  modern  metropolis.  This  civic  spirit  has  made  metro- 
politan Boston  the  most  progressive  of  the  greater  American 
communities." 

—  CHARLES  ZUEBLIN  :  A  Decade  of  Civic  Development. 
By  permission  of  The  University  of  Chicago  Press. 

5.  Read  the  passage  quoted  from  Stevenson's  The 
Foreigner  at  Home  on  pages  61-64  and  underline  the 
transitional  phrases  and  clauses. 

6.  Take  one  of  the  outlines  called  for  by  the  third 
exercise  on  page  64,  and  write  out  an  introduction,  a 
conclusion,  and  transitions  between  the  main  divisions, 
that  shall  announce  in  a  clear,  but  not  too  obvious, 
way  the  divisions  of  your  paper. 


THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 


77 


THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 
PRESENTATION 

IT  must  be  clear  to  a  careful  reader  that  definition 
and  analysis  do  not  exist  in  literature  alone  and  inde- 
pendently of  each  other.  They  go  on  together,  one 
process  making  opportunity  for  the  other  and  con- 
tributing its  part  toward  fulfilling  the  functions  of 
exposition.  They  may  be  applied  by  the  writer  with 
the  purpose  of  transcribing  facts  and  appearances, 
with  no  attempt  to  explain  or  point  out  their  signifi- 
cance ;  or  they  may  be  applied  with  a  view  of  giving 
the  writer's  theory  or  interpretation  of  perceptible 
facts  or  of  some  abstract  idea.  In  the  first  case  the 
resulting  exposition  may  be  called  presentation ;  in  the 
second,  interpretation.  In  general  in  the  news  col- 
umns of  the  daily  paper  we  find  the  objective  state- 
ment of  facts;  in  the  editorial  columns  we  find  the 
editor's  interpretation  of  them.  Both  the  reportorial 
method  and  the  editorial  method  are  important. 
Every  one  should  be  able  to  give  a  clear,  full,  unbiased 
statement  of  observed  facts.  Every  one  should  be 
able  to  see  some  meaning  in  the  facts,  to  have  some 
ideas  about  them.  Often  presentation  and  interpreta- 
tion go  hand  in  hand,  but  this  is  not  necessarily  so. 

79 


80  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

We  shall  consider  first  presentation  unaided  by  com- 
ment or  explanation. 

A  particular  object  or  event  may  be  presented  by 
the  reporter's  method.  The  following  outline  will 
suggest  the  definition  and  analysis  necessary  for  a  re- 
porter's presentation  of  the  subject,  The  Bellevue 
Sanatorium :  — 

I.   Its  purpose. 
II.    Its  plant. 

A .  Location. 

1.  Geographical. 

2.  Scenic. 

B.  Buildings  and  grounds. 

1.  Size. 

2.  Character. 

3.  Equipment. 

III.  Its  operation. 

A.  Rules  and  regulations. 

B.  Methods  of  treatment. 

C.  Medical  staff. 

IV.  Its  success. 

A  reporter's  account  of  a  battle  would  include  the 
occasion,  the  site,  the  strength,  condition,  and  com- 
manders of  the  armies,  the  plan  of  action,  results  in 
dead  and  wounded,  territory  gained,  and  so  on. 

When  the  reporter's  method  is  applied  to  a  class 
instead  of  to  an  individual  object  or  event,  it  is  called 
the  scientific  method.  A  scientific  exposition  of  a 


PRESENTATION  8 1 

squirrel  would  give  its  physical  characteristics,  its 
habits,  its  range,  and  so  on.  This  exposition  might 
include  under  the  appearance  of  the  animal  such  a 
description  as  would  enable  one  to  see  it  as  it  appeared 
from  a  fixed  point  of  view  at  a  given  moment,  but  it 
should  include  more.  For  example,  in  the  matter  of 
color,  the  exposition  would  give  not  only  the  general 
effect  from  one  point  of  view,  but  the  actual  color 
of  the  various  parts  and  the  individual  hairs.  Note 
in  the  following  passage  the  presentation  of  the  gray 
squirrel  and  the  group  to  which  it  belongs. 

RODENTS  OR  GNAWING  ANIMALS  (Glires) 
"  Animals  of  this  group  may  be  recognized  at  once  by  the 
peculiar  arrangement  of  their  teeth.  In  the  front  of  the 
mouth  are  two  large  conspicuous  teeth  (incisors)  in  each 
jaw,  which  meet  vertically  like  two  pairs  of  chisels,  and  form 
a  very  powerful  apparatus  for  gnawing  or  cutting.  The  re- 
maining teeth  are  broad,  flat-topped  grinders  (molars)  placed 
in  the  back  of  the  mouth,  while  between  the  two,  where  the 
tearing  teeth  (canines)  of  the  carnivorous  animals  are  situ- 
ated, the  jaws  are  quite  bare.  The  large  gnawing  teeth  are 
further  peculiar  in  being  curved  and  deeply  rooted  in  the 
jaws,  while  they  also  grow  continuously  from  the  base  as  they 
wear  away  at  the  tip,  so  that  they  never  become  '  worn  out.' 
*  #  *  #  *  *  * 

"  Squirrels  .  .  .  differ  from  the  mice  and  their  allies  in 
their  bushy  tails  and  many  peculiarities  in  their  anatomical 
structure,  an  important  one  being  that  the  two  lower  leg 
bones  are  separate,  and  not  fused  together  as  in  the  mice, 
thus  allowing  them  to  use  their  limbs  more  freely  in  climbing 

EXPOSITION  —  6 


82  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF  EXPOSITION 

—  a  habit  which  is  characteristic  of  a  majority  of  the 
species. 

"  Gray  Squirrel. 

"  Sciurus  Carolinensis  Gmelin. 

"  Length,  eighteen  inches. 

"  Description.  Similar  in  build  to  the  fox  squirrel,  with 
large  bushy  tail.  Color  yellowish  gray,  individual  hairs 
banded  with  rusty-yellow  and  black,  decidedly  rusty  on  the 
face,  feet,  and  sides.  Below  white.  Hairs  of  tail  rusty- 
yellow  at  base,  black  in  the  middle,  with  white  tips. 

"Range.  Florida  to  southeastern  Pennsylvania,  Hudson 
valley,  Indiana,  and  Missouri ;  replaced  in  the  North  and 
West  by  slightly  different  geographical  varieties." 

—  WITMER  STONE  and  WILLIAM  EVERITT  CRAM  :.  American 
Animals.  Copyright,  1902,  by  Doubleday,  Page  and  Company. 

While  this  passage  is  not  finished  exposition  in  that 
the  material  is  not  presented  in  connected,  literary 
form,  it  gives  a  good  idea  of  what  subject-matter  is 
admitted  to  such  exposition. 

Classes  whose  distinguishing  traits  are  less  tangi- 
ble may  be  treated  by  this  method.  We  might  have  a 
direct,  objective  presentation  of  the  subject  beggars : 
such  an  article  would  give  their  number,  the  known 
causes  of  their  condition,  their  attitude  toward  labor, 
the  way  in  which  they  make  a  living,  etc. ;  the  treat- 
ment would  be  altogether  different  from  Charles 
Lamb's  enjoyable  sketch  of  that  class  in  his  essay, 
The  Decay  of  Beggars. 

The  presentation  of  a  process  is  a  common  form  of 
exposition,  either  as  an  element  in  a  more  complex 


PRESENTATION  83 

discourse  or  as  an  exposition  complete  in  itself.  A 
paper  on  golf  might  be  devoted  wholly  to  how  to  play 
golf,  or  that  theme  might  be  made  part  of  a  paper  that 
included  the  history  of  the  game,  its  present  status,  etc. 

Fishing,  how  to  make  pins,  the  French,  Unitarian- 
ism,  in  short,  anything  about  which  a  body  of  ad- 
mitted facts  exists,  may  be  made  the  subject  of  direct 
presentation  by  the  reporter's  method,  —  even  such 
subjects  as  charity,  generosity,  chivalry,  may  receive 
virtually  objective  treatment.  This  is  the  case  when 
the  writer  merely  transcribes  the  accepted  conven- 
tional views  regarding  them,  without  giving  his  pecul- 
iar "  sense  of  fact." 

The  interest  of  presentation  will  depend  largely  on 
the  novelty  and  interest  of  the  subject  chosen.  The 
value  of  such  a  piece  of  work  will  depend  upon  the 
selection  of  significant  facts  and  the  impersonal,  ac- 
curate presentation  of  them  in  a  related  way.  To 
present  a  complex  subject  adequately  requires  train- 
ing. Most  of  us  are  poor  observers.  We  are  satis- 
fied with  first  impressions,  with  a  superficial  view, 
or  we  see  what  we  expect  to  see  or  wish  to  see,  rather 
than  what  is.  On  looking  away  from  an  object  we 
do  not  remember  what  we  have  seen  in  anything  but 
a  vague,  blurred  way.  Few  of  us  could  draw  an  out- 
line of  so  familiar  a  thing  as  the  map  of  the  United 
States  without  looking  several  times  at  a  model. 
Agassiz  is  said  to  have  given  a  would-be  scientist  a 


84  THE  FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 

fish  with  the  injunction,  "  Study  your  fish."  When 
the  student  reported  that  he  had  mastered  the  sub- 
ject, he  was  questioned  and  again  enjoined,  "  Study 
your  fish  " ;  the  next  time  he  was  not  in  such  haste  to 
recite,  but  waited  until  he  was  quite  sure  he  knew  all 
there  was  to  know  about  that  fish.  With  a  few  search- 
ing questions  the  master  sounded  the  youth's  knowl- 
edge and  again  commanded,  "Study  your  fish." 
This  was  repeated  till  the  boy  learned  to  use  his 
eyes  as  he  had  never  before  dreamed  of  using  them. 
A  similar  tale  is  told  with  the  artist  Benjamin  West 
for  the  master,  Samuel  Breese  Morse  for  pupil,  and 
the  drawing  of  a  human  hand  for  the  test  of  his 
power  of  observation.  We  need  to  cultivate  the 
power  of  closer  and  more  accurate  observation.  For 
this  reason  it  is  advisable  to  choose  for  objective 
presentation  a  subject  which  makes  it  possible  to 
write  "with  the  eye  on  the  object."  If  you  visited 
a  salmon  canning  establishment,  a  logging  camp, 
or  a  coal  mine,  last  year,  however  much  you  may 
have  been  impressed  at  the  time,  unless  you  took 
notes,  you  scarcely  have  the  data  in  hand  for  an 
accurate  report  of  the  industry  you  observed. 

After  exact  information  the  reporter  needs  most, 
uhwarped  vision.  He  must  have  the  power  to  see 
things  as  they  are,  unbiased  by  personal  feeling. 
Without  this  power,  whatever  else  he  is,  idealist, 
poet,  —  he  is  no  reporter. 


PRESENTATION  85 

Given  these  fundamental  requirements,  exact  in- 
formation and  power  to  take  the  impersonal  view, 
the  reporter  must  have  the  skill,  the  art,  to  select  and 
group  his  facts  in  such  a  way  that  what  he  writes 
will  convey  the  impression  he  has  with  truth  and 
accuracy.  This  part  of  the  work  has  been  discussed 
at  some  length,  but  we  will  briefly  review  the  steps 
of  the  procedure. 

The  first  step  necessary  is  to  make  a  partition  of 
the  subject  with  the  purpose  of  narrowing  it,  of  elimi- 
nating those  points  we  do  not  wish  to  discuss  and  in- 
cluding those  which  are  needful  to  the  accomplishment 
of  our  purpose  regarding  the  subject.  This  is  a  pre- 
liminary step  and  the  division  will  not  appear  in  the 
outline ;  we  make  it  that  we  may  reach  the  theme  or 
topic  we  wish  to  discuss,  and  it  is  but  a  rough  divi- 
sion. For  example,  if  we  decide  to  give  a  general 
view  of  the  subject,  we  must  omit  details  ;  if  we  wish 
to  give  the  picturesque  phases  of  a  subject,  we  will 
bar  out  much  that  from  a  scientific  point  of  view  is 
fundamental  and  important;  if  our  treatment  is  to  be 
technical,  we  must  sacrifice  much  that  is  of  human  in- 
terest. Having  narrowed  the  subject  and  from  the  gen- 
eral subject  —  say  school  —  having  derived  the  topic 
on  which  we  wish  to  write,  as,  for  example,  the  his- 
tory of  the  Hawthorne  School ;  the  management  of 
the  Hawthorne  School ;  the  sports  of  the  Hawthorne 
School;  the  fraternities  of  the  Hawthorne  School; 


86  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF  EXPOSITION 

the  English  work  of  the  Hawthorne  School;  the 
buildings  and  grounds  of  the  Hawthorne  School ;  the 
discipline  of  the  Hawthorne  School;  my  zoology 
class ;  my  classmates ;  the  school  magazine,  etc., 
our  next  task  is  to  make  the  summary  that  will  give 
the  range  and  set  the  limits  for  the  outline  by  express- 
ing clearly  the  writer's  purpose  with  respect  to  his 
subject.  When  the  outline  has  been  completed,  first 
in  working  order,  and  afterward  recast  in  the  order 
best  suited  to  the  graphic  portrayal  of  the  parts  and 
their  relations,  we  are  ready  to  write. 

It  should  be  understood  that  our  purpose  with 
regard  to  the  subject  must  be  perfectly  clear  to  us. 
Some  hold  that  our  intention  with  reference  to  some 
specific  audience  should  be  equally  clear.  As  a  rule, 
however,  unless  his  purpose  is  purely  didactic,  a 
writer  should  be  unconscious  of  any  specific  audience. 
Papers  adapted  to  classes  of  people  reach  no  one; 
addresses  to  school  children,  sermons  to  boarding- 
school  misses,  lectures  to  working-men,  judged  by  any 
absolute  standard,  are  vapid  performances.  If  you 
wish  to  learn  to  write  well,  determine  what  you  wish 
to  do  with  respect  to  your  subject,  and  write  from 
yourself — to  whom  is  a  matter  of  no  consequence. 
If  the  work  ^rpresses  something  of  value,  it  will  find 
an  audience  to  zV^press.  Let  your  type  of  mind,  your 
habit  of  thought,  determine  your  audience,  not  your 
audience  your  habit  of  thought.  If  you  have  a  Hans 


PRESENTATION  87 

Christian  Andersen  type  of  mind,  you  will  write  for 
children ;  if  you  have  the  Matthew  Arnold  or  the 
Emerson  type  of  mind,  you  will  write  for  grown  people ; 
if  you  are  changeable,  with  shifting  moods  and  vary- 
ing powers,  you  will  write  to  William  Sharp's1  audience 
to-day  and  to  Fiona  Macleod's1  audience  to-morrow. 

In  so  far  as  we  do  suppose  an  audience,  let  it  be 
an  audience  of  other  selves ;  of  readers  of  intelligence 
equal  to  our  own.  We  shall  then  not  make  the  mis- 
take of  overexplicitness.  If  we  are  too  explicit,  we 
defeat  the  end  for  which  we  are  so ;  the  reader  with 
an  active  mind  must  use  it ;  if  nothing  is  left  to  his 
willing  inference,  his  mind  wanders  while  his  eye  fol- 
lows the  unnecessary  words,  or  he  resorts  to  skipping, 
or  he  lays  aside  the  article  altogether  as  dull  and  slow. 

EXERCISES 

I.    Make  a  careful  outline  of  the  following :  — 

"  Many  persons  in  Japan  earn  their  living  during  the  sum- 
mer months  by  catching  and  selling  fireflies :  indeed,  the 
extent  of  this  business  entitles  it  to  be  regarded  as  a  special 
industry.  The  chief  center  of  this  industry  is  the  region 
about  Ishiyama,  in  Goshu,  by  the  Lake  of  Omi, — a  number 
of  houses  there  supplying  fireflies  to  many  parts  of  the 
country,  and  especially  to  the  great  cities  of  Osaka  and 
Kyoto.  From  sixty  to  seventy  firefly-catchers  are  employed 
by  each  of  the  principal  houses  during  the  busy  season. 

1  It  was  not  known  until  after  Mr.  Sharp's  death  that  he  and  Fiona 
Macleod  were  the  same, 


88  THE  FUNCTIONS   OF  EXPOSITION 

Some  training  is  required  for  the  occupation.  A  tyro  might 
find  it  no  easy  matter  to  catch  a  hundred  fireflies  in  a  single 
night ;  but  an  expert  has  been  known  to  catch  three  thousand. 
The  methods  of  capture,  although  of  the  simplest  possible 
kind,  are  very  interesting  to  see. 

"  Immediately  after  sunset,  the  firefly- hunter  goes  forth, 
with  a  long  bamboo  pole  upon  his  shoulder,  and  a  long  bag 
of  brown  mosquito-netting  wound,  like  a  girdle,  about  his 
waist.  When  he  reaches  a  wooded  place  frequented  by  fire- 
flies, —  usually  some  spot  where  willows  are  planted,  on  the 
bank  of  a  river  or  lake,  —  he  halts  and  watches  the  trees. 
As  soon  as  the  trees  begin  to  twinkle  satisfactorily,  he  gets 
his  net  ready,  approaches  the  most  luminous  tree,  and  with 
his  long  pole  strikes  the  branches.  The  fireflies,  dislodged 
by  the  shock,  do  not  immediately  take  flight,  as  more  active 
insects  would  do  under  like  circumstances,  but  drop  helplessly 
to  the  ground,  beetle-wise,  where  their  light  —  always  more 
brilliant  in  moments  of  fear  or  pain — renders  them  con- 
spicuous. If  suffered  to  remain  upon  the  ground  for  a  few 
moments,  they  will  fly  away.  But  the  catcher,  picking 
them  up  with  astonishing  quickness,  using  both  hands  at 
once,  deftly  tosses  them  into  his  mouth  —  because  he  cannot 
lose  the  time  required  to  put  them  one  by  one,  into  the  bag. 
Only  when  his  mouth  can  hold  no  more,  does  he  drop  the 
fireflies,  unharmed,  into  the  netting. 

"  Thus  the  firefly-catcher  works  until  about  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  —  the  old  Japanese  hour  of  ghosts,  — at  which 
time  the  insects  begin  to  leave  the  trees  and  seek  the  dewy 
soil.  There  they  are  said  to  bury  their  tails,  so  as  to  remain 
viewless.  But  now  the  hunter  changes  his  tactics.  Taking 
a  bamboo  broom  he  brushes  the  surface  of  the  turf,  lightly 
and  quickly.  Whenever  touched  or  alarmed  by  the  broom, 


PRESENTATION  89 

the  fireflies  display  their  lanterns,  and  are  immediately  nipped 
and  bagged.  A  little  before  dawn,  the  hunters  return  to  town. 

"At  the  firefly-shops  the  captured  insects  are  sorted  as  soon 
as  possible,  according  to  the  brilliancy  of  their  light,  —  the 
more  luminous  being  the  higher-priced.  Then  they  are 
put  into  gauze-covered  boxes  or  cages,  with  a  certain  quantity 
of  moistened  grass  in  each  cage.  From  one  hundred  to  two 
hundred  fireflies  are  placed  in  a  single  cage,  according  to  the 
grade.  To  these  cages  are  attached  small  wooden  tablets 
inscribed  with  the  names  of  customers, — such  as  hotel  pro- 
prietors, restaurant-keepers,  wholesale  and  retail  insect-mer- 
chants, and  private  persons  who  have  ordered  large  quantities 
of  fireflies  for  some  particular  festivity.  The  boxes  are  dis- 
patched to  their  destinations  by  nimble  messengers,  —  for 
goods  of  this  class  cannot  be  safely  intrusted  to  express 
companies. 

"Great  numbers  of  fireflies  are  ordered  for  display  at  even- 
ing parties  in  the  summer  season.  A  large  Japanese  guest- 
room usually  overlooks  a  garden ;  and  during  a  banquet  or 
other  evening  entertainment,  given  in  the  sultry  season,  it  is 
customary  to  set  fireflies  at  liberty  in  the  garden  after  sunset, 
that  the  visitors  may  enjoy  the  sight  of  the  sparkling.  Res- 
taurant-keepers purchase  largely.  In  the  famous  Dotombori 
of  Osaka,  there  is  a  house  where  myriads  of  fireflies  are  kept 
in  a  large  space  inclosed  by  mosquito-netting ;  and  customers 
of  this  house  are  permitted  to  enter  the  inclosure  and  cap- 
ture a  certain  number  of  fireflies  to  take  home  with  them. 

"The  wholesale  price  of  living  fireflies  ranges  from  three 
sen  per  hundred  up  to  thirteen  sen  per  hundred,  according 
to  season  and  quality.  Retail  dealers  sell  them  in  cages ; 
and  in  Tokyo  the  price  of  a  cage  of  fireflies  ranges  from  three 
sen  up  to  several  dollars.  The  cheapest  kind  of  cage,  con- 


90  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 

taining  only  three  or  four  fireflies,  is  scarcely  more  than  two 
inches  square;  but  the  costly  cages  —  veritable  marvels  of 
bamboo  work,  beautifully  decorated  —  are  as  large  as  cages 
for  songbirds.  Firefly  cages  of  charming  or  fantastic  shapes 
—  model  houses,  junks,  temple-lanterns,  etc.  —  can  be  bought 
at  prices  ranging  from  thirty  sen  up  to  one  dollar. 

"  Dead  or  alive,  fireflies  are  worth  money.  They  are  deli- 
cate insects,  and  they  live  but  a  short  time  in  confinement. 
Great  numbers  die  in  the  insect-shops ;  and  one  celebrated 
insect-house  is  said  to  dispose  every  season  of  no  less  than 
five  sho  — that  is  to  say,  about  one  peck  —  of  dead  fireflies, 
which  are  sold  to  manufacturing  establishments  in  Osaka. 
Formerly  fireflies  were  used  much  more  than  at  present  in 
the  manufacture  of  poultices  and  pills,  and  in  the  preparation 
of  drugs  peculiar  to  the  practice  of  Chinese  medicine.  Even 
to-day  some  curious  extracts  are  obtained  from  them ;  and  one 
of  these,  called  Hotaru-noabura,  or  Firefly-grease,  is  still  used 
by  woodworkers  for  the  purpose  of  imparting  rigidity  to 
objects  made  of  bent  bamboo. 

"A  very  curious  chapter  on  firefly  medicine  might  be  written 
by  somebody  learned  in  the  old-fashioned  literature.  The 
queerest  part  of  the  subject  is  Chinese,  and  belongs  much 
more  to  demonology  than  to  therapeutics.  Firefly-ointments 
used  to  be  made  which  had  power,  it  was  alleged,  to  preserve 
a  house  from  the  attacks  of  robbers,  to  counteract  the 
effect  of  any  poison,  and  to  drive  away  '  the  hundred  devils/ 
And  pills  were  made  with  firefly  substance  which  were  be- 
lieved to  confer  invulnerability  ;  — one  kind  of  such  pills  be- 
ing called  Kanshogan,  or  '  Commander-in-Chief  Pills ' ;  and 
another,  Buigan,  or  'Military- Power  Pills.'  " 

— LAFCADIO  HEARN  :  Kotto. 
By  permission  of  The  Macmillan  Company. 


PRESENTATION  91 

2.  Is  this  account  of  the  firefly  industry  presenta- 
tion or  interpretation  ?     Why  ? 

3.  What  processes  are  employed  below  ?     For  the 
purpose  of  presentation  or  interpretation  ? 

(a)  "  I  shall  use  the  term  zoology  as  denoting  the  whole 
doctrine  of  animal  life,  in  contradistinction  to  botany,  which 
signifies  the  whole  doctrine  of  vegetable  life. 

"  Employed  in  this  sense,  zoology,  like  botany,  is  divisi- 
ble into  three  great  but  subordinate  sciences,  —  morphology, 
physiology,  and  distribution,  —  each  of  which  may,  to  a  very 
great  extent,  be  studied  independently  of  the  other. 

"  Zoological  morphology  is  the  doctrine  of  animal  form 
or  structure.  Anatomy  is  one  of  its  branches;  development 
is  another ;  while  classification  is  the  expression  of  the 
relations  which  different  animals  bear  to  one  another,  in 
respect  to  their  anatomy  and  their  development. 

"  Zoological  distribution  is  the  study  of  animals  in  relation 
to  the  terrestrial  conditions  which  obtain  now,  or  have  ob- 
tained at  any  previous  epoch  of  the  earth's  history. 

"  Zoological  physiology,  lastly,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  func- 
tions or  actions  of  animals.  It  regards  animal  bodies  as 
machines  impelled  by  certain  forces,  and  performing  an 
amount  of  work  which  can  be  expressed  in  terms  of  the 
ordinary  forces  of  nature.  The  final  object  of  physiology 
is  to  deduct  the  facts  of  morphology  on  the  one  hand,  and 
those  of  distribution  on  the  other,  from  the  laws  of  the 
molecular  forces  of  matter." 

—  THOMAS  HENRY  HUXLEY  :  Lay  Sermons. 

(ft)  "  In  the  experience  of  many  anglers,  creek  or  river 
minnows  are  preferable  to  those  from  lakes  or  ponds,  par- 
ticularly if  one  is  fishing  for  black  bass  or  wall-eyed  pike. 


92  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 

The  best  bait  species  are  those  that  are  found  in  the  swiftly 
flowing  water  of  the  riffles.  Not  only  are  the  species  better, 
but  the  fish  are  more  vigorous  and  active,  and  more  tena- 
cious of  life,  as  well  as  more  silvery  or  brightly  colored, 
which  are  the  points  chiefly  determining  the  excellence  for  a 
bait  minnow,  as  such.  To  be  effective,  a  bait  minnow  must 
be  bright  or  silvery  enough  to  attract  the  attention  of  the 
fish,  it  must  be  active  to  show  that  it  is  alive,  albeit  in  dis- 
tress or  under  restraint,  and  its  tenacity  of  life  must  be  great 
to  enable  it  to  withstand  the  changed  and  constantly  chang- 
ing environment  and  the  slight  physical  injury  incident  to 
its  being  impaled  upon  the  hook.  The  size  of  the  minnows 
selected  will,  of  course,  be  determined  by  the  kind  of  fishing 
the  angler  wishes  to  do." 

—  DAVID  STARR  JORDAN  and  BARTON  W.  EVERMANN  : 
American  Food  and  Game  Fishes. 

Copyright,  1902,  by  Doubleday,  Page  and  Company. 

(c)  "Over  the  blue-gray  slope  of  tiled  roofs  there  is  a 
vast  quivering  and  fluttering  of  extraordinary  shapes,  —  a 
spectacle  not,  indeed,  new  to  me,  but  always  delicious. 
Everywhere  are  floating  —  tied  to  very  tall  bamboo  poles  — 
immense  brightly  colored  paper  fish,  which  look  and  move 
as  if  alive.  The  greater  number  vary  from  five  to  fifteen 
feet  in  length ;  but  here  and  there  I  see  a  baby  scarcely  a 
foot  long,  hooked  to  the  tail  of  a  larger  one.  Some  poles 
have  four  or  five  fish  attached  to  them  at  heights  propor- 
tioned to  the  dimensions  of  the  fish,  the  largest  always  at  the 
top.  So  cunningly  shaped  and  colored  these  things  are  that 
the  first  sight  of  them  is  always  startling  to  a  stranger.  The 
lines  holding  them  are  fastened  within  the  head ;  and  the 
wind,  entering  the  open  mouth,  not  only  inflates  the  body 
to  perfect  form,  but  keeps  it  undulating,  —  rising  and  de- 


PRESENTATION  93 

scending,  turning  and  twisting,  precisely  like  a  real  fish, 
while  the  tail  plays  and  the  fins  wave  irreproachably.  In 
the  garden  of  my  next-door  neighbor  there  are  two  very  fine 
specimens.  One  has  an  orange  belly  and  a  bluish-gray  back ; 
the  other  is  all  a  silvery  tint ;  and  both  have  big  weird  eyes. 
The  rustling  of  their  motion  as  they  swim  against  the  sky  is 
like  the  sound  of  wind  in  a  canefield." 

—  LAFCADIO  HEARN  :  After  the  War. 
By  permission  of   Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

4.  Considered  apart  from  their  context,  to  what 
form  of  discourse  do  the  first  two  paragraphs  given 
below  belong  ?  The  second  two  ?  In  what  circum- 
stances could  they  be  regarded  as  presentation  for 
the  purpose  of  exposition  ? 

"The  Bluebirds  nested  just  outside  the  dining-room  win- 
dow on  the  third  floor  of  a  suburban  apartment  house. 
This  building  is  in  the  town  of  Wellesley  and  surrounded 
by  other  houses,  but  on  one  side  it  stands  close  to  the  east- 
ern slope  of  a  long,  low  ridge  that  forms  one  of  the  natural 
boundaries  of  the  college  grounds.  Oak-woods,  sprinkled 
with  pine,  crown  the  hill  and  extend  one  third  of  the  way 
down  over  the  eastern  side.  Birds  of  many  feathers  fre- 
quent this  wooded  slope.  In  the  springtime  Warblers  glean 
about  its  edges,  the  Great- crested  Flycatcher  whistles, 
buoyant,  as  he  flies  from  tree  to  tree,  and  notes  of  the  Wood 
Thrush  rise  through  the  stillness  of  late  afternoon  like  bub- 
bles from  the  bottom  of  a  spring. 

"  The  window  to  which  the  Bluebirds  came  is  the  west 
one  of  a  southwest  bay,  and  looks  straight  out  and  up  to 
the  wooded  hill.  A  house  stands  opposite,  a  little  higher 


94  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 

on  the  slope,  surrounded  by  an  apple  orchard,  some  trees 
of  which  stray  down  to  the  yard  immediately  beneath.  .  .  . 

****** 

"  In  the  afternoon  he  gave  from  the  nest,  for  the  first  time, 
the  call-note,  and  five  minutes  later  scrambled  up  to  the 
opening.  Hopping  to  the  edge  of  the  shelf,  he  called  again, 
and  then,  putting  his  trust  in  his  untried  wings,  he  flew 
straight  off  and  up  to  a  tree  one  hundred  feet  away.  The 
old  birds  had  been  watching  and  followed  now,  guarding 
his  course  till  he  alighted.  Another  flight  to  the  roof  of 
the  neighboring  house,  with  some  imperfect  attempts  at 
stopping,  and  he  was  off  to  the  hill,  still  tended  by  his 
watchful  parents. 

"An  hour  later  the  male  came  back  to  the  nest-porch, 
and  seated  himself  against  the  entrance.  Now  and  then  he 
looked  inquiringly  into  the  nest.  The  umbrella  had  been 
taken  down,  but  after  it  was  raised  he  came  again  and  took 
a  drink ;  after  that  he  disappeared  and  nothing  more  was 
seen  of  the  Bluebird  tenants." 

—  MARIAN  E.  HUBBARD  :  Bluebird  Tenants. 

By  permission. 

5.  To  what  do  the  following  passages  on  How  to 
live  on  Thirty  Pounds  a  Year,  and  How  to  build  a  Fire, 
owe  their  interest  ? 

(a)  "  He  assured  Johnson,  who,  I  suppose,  was  then  medi- 
tating to  try  his  fortune  in  London,  but  was  apprehensive  of 
the  expense,  that  thirty  pounds  a  year  was  enough  to 
enable  a  man  to  live  there  without  being  contemptible.  He 
allowed  ten  pounds  for  clothes  and  linen.  He  said  a  man 
might  live  in  a  garret  at  eighteen  pence  a  week ;  few  people 


PRESENTATION  95 

would  inquire  where  he  lodged ;  and  if  they  did,  it  was  easy 
to  say,  "  Sir,  I  am  to  be  found  at  such  a  place."  By  spend- 
ing threepence  in  a  coffeehouse,  he  might  be  for  some 
hours  every  day  in  very  good  company ;  he  might  dine  for 
sixpence,  breakfast  on  bread  and  milk  for  a  penny,  and  do 
without  supper ;  on  clean-shirt  day  he  went  abroad,  and  paid 
visits."  —  BOSWELL  :  Life  of  Johnson. 

(fr)  "  We  piled,  with  care,  our  nightly  stack 
Of  wood  against  the  chimney-back,  — 
The  oaken  log,  green,  huge,  and  thick, 
And  on  its  top  the  stout  back-stick ; 
The  knotty  fore-stick  laid  apart, 
And  filled  between  with  curious  art 
The  ragged  brush ;  then,  hovering  near, 
We  watched  the  first  red  blaze  appear, 
Heard  the  sharp  crackle,  caught  the  gleam 
On  whitewashed  wall  and  sagging  beam, 
Until  the  old,  rude- furnished  room 
Burst,  flower-like,  into  rosy  bloom : 
While  radiant,  with  a  mimic  flame 
Outside  the  sparkling  drift  became, 
And  through  the  bare-boughed  lilac-tree 
Our  own  warm  hearth  seemed  blazing  free." 

— WHITTIER  :  Snow-Sound. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

6.  Write  six  or  eight  pages  of  exposition  present- 
ing some  object  or  place.     It  must  be  exposition,  not 
description. 

7.  Write  six  or  eight  pages  of  exposition  presenting 
some  process  or  particular  undertaking.     It  must  be 
exposition,  not  narration. 


INTERPRETATION 

IN  the  kind  of  exposition  already  considered,  the 
facts  about  an  object  are  presented  in  and  for  them- 
selves, because  of  their  own  value  and  interest.  Even 
here  the  personality  of  the  writer  colors  his  work  more 
or  less,  but  the  aim  of  the  writer  is  to  be  a  trans- 
parent medium  through  which  the  object  discussed 
may  be  viewed  by  the  reader.  The  reporter's  attitude 
toward  the  facts  he  is  presenting,  so  far  as  his  work 
reveals  it,  is  that  of  Wordsworth's  Peter  Bell  toward 
the  primrose :  — 

"  A  primrose  by  a  river's  brim 

A  yellow  primrose  was  to  him, 

And  it  was  nothing  more." 

If  he  can  see  a  hidden  significance  in  his  subject,  if 
he  is  moved  by  it,  he  must  be  able  to  detach  this  per- 
sonal, subjective  impression  from  the  external  objec- 
tive fact,  and  let  no  hint  of  it  appear  in  his  report. 

The  class  of  exposition  we  are  about  to  consider  is 
one  with  which  Peter  Bells  of  the  pen  have  nothing  to 
do.  The  interpreter  must  be  a  man  of  ideas,  a  man 
of  insight.  His  attitude  toward  the  "primrose"  is  de- 
scribed in  Tennyson's  Flower  in  the  Crannied  Wall:  — 

"  Flower  in  the  crannied  wall 
I  pluck  you  out  of  the  crannies, 
96 


INTERPRETATION  97 

I  hold  you  here  root  and  all  in  my  hand 
Little  flower  —  but  if  I  could  understand 
What  you  are,  root  and  all  and  all  in  all 
I  should  know  what  God  and  man  is." 


He  is  concerned  with  forms  and  appearances  only 
as  they  help  him  to  some  inner  meaning,  as  they 
furnish  a  basis  for  inference,  as  they  suggest  some- 
thing beyond  themselves,  and  enable  him  to  dis- 
cover relationships,  and  form  or  substantiate  theories. 
This  work  may  be  of  a  grandiose  character  like  that 
of  the  philosopher,  preacher,  or  publicist,  or  it  may  be 
graceful,  light,  humorous,  like  the  essays  of  Lamb 
and  Stevenson. 

Subjects  that  may  be  transcribed,  presented,  admit 
of  interpretative  treatment :  a  face,  a  place,  a  man's 
life,  a  society,  an  institution,  an  act,  a  statue,  a  picture, 
a  verse,  a  cathedral,  may  call  for  interpretation.  In- 
terpretation often  supplements  presentation.  The 
writer's  personal  view  comes  as  a  conclusion  to  the 
objective  presentation  of  his  subject,  or  his  opinions 
accompany  his  account  as  running  comment.  But 
where  interpretation  is  the  main  object  of  the  writer, 
we  find  facts  transcribed  for  the  purpose  of  sustaining 
or  giving  point  to  the  interpretation. 

Carlyle  does  not  give  a  description,  a  photographic 
presentation  of  Dante's  face;  he  takes  for  granted 
your  acquaintance  with  the  fact^  of  the  face  and 

EXPOSITION  —  7 


98  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

refers  to  them  only  to  make  his  interpretation  more 
convincing  :  — 

"  The  Book ;  and  one  might  add  that  Portrait  commonly 
attributed  to  Giotto,  which,  looking  on  it,  you  cannot  help  in- 
clining to  think  genuine,  whoever  did  it.  To  me  it  is  a  most 
touching  face ;  perhaps  of  all  faces  that  I  know,  the  most 
so.  Lonely  there,  painted  as  on  vacancy,  with  the  simple 
laurel  wound  round  it;  the  deathless  sorrow  and  pain,  the 
known  victory  which  is  also  deathless  ;  —  significant  of  the 
whole  history  of  Dante  !  I  think  it  is  the  mournfullest  face 
that  ever  was  painted  from  reality;  an  altogether  tragic, 
heart-affective  face.  There  is  in  it,  as  foundation  of  it,  the 
softness,  tenderness,  gentle  affection  as  of  a  child  ;  but  all 
this  is  as  if  congealed  into  sharp  contradiction,  into  abnega- 
tion, isolation,  proud,  hopeless  pain.  A  soft  ethereal  soul 
looking  out  so  stern,  implacable,  grim-trenchant,  as  from  im- 
prisonment of  thick-ribbed  ice  !  Withal  it  is  a  silent  pain, 
too,  a  silent,  scornful  one :  the  lip  is  curled  in  a  kind  of 
godlike  disdain  of  the  thing  that  is  eating  out  his  heart, — 
as  if  it  were  withal  a  mean,  insignificant  thing,  as  if  he  whom 
it  had  power  to  torture  and  strangle  were  greater  than  it. 
The  face  is  one  wholly  in  protest,  and  life-long  unsurrender- 
ing  battle  against  the  world.  Affection  all  converted  into 
indignation  :  an  implacable  indignation ;  slow,  equable,  silent, 
like  that  of  a  god  !  The  eye,  too,  it  looks  out  in  a  kind  of 
surprise,  a  kind  of  inquiry,  why  the  world  was  of  such  a  sort  ? 
This  is  Dante;  so  he  looks  this  ' voice  of  ten  silent  cen- 
turies/ and  sings  us  '  his  mystic  unfathomable  song/ 

—  CARLYLE  :   Heroes  and  Hero  Worship. 

Carlyle's  method  is  often  the  same  on  a  larger 


INTERPRETATION  99 

scale,  as  in  Mahomet.  Though  he  assumes  less  knowl- 
edge of  facts  here,  and  presents  them  more  explicitly, 
he  subordinates  presentation  to  interpretation.  He 
gives,  not  a  narrative  biographical  sketch,  but  presents 
only  those  facts  in  the  life  and  environment  of  Ma- 
hornet  that  develop  his  theme  —  the  sincerity  of 
Mahomet  The  relation  of  all  parts  of  the  lecture  to 
that  theme  is  suggested  by  the  following  outline :  — 
Introduction :  — 

I.    Impostor  theory  dismissed  as  impossible. 
II.    Faults  dismissed  as  unessential. 
Development :  — 

I.    Sincerity  demanded  by  background. 

A.  Country  uncompromising. 

1.  Mountains. 

2.  Deserts. 

3.  Heat. 

4.  Emptiness. 

B.  People  in  earnest. 

1.  Passionate. 

2.  Controlled. 

3.  Religious. 

II.    Sincerity  fostered  by  early  life. 

A.  Personal  loyalty  inculcated  by  example  of 

family. 

B.  Curiosity  excited  by  journey. 

C.  Self-dependence  necessitated  by 
i.   Absence  of  books. 


100  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

2.    Isolation. 
III.    Sincerity  manifested. 

A.  In  private  life. 

1.  In  business  relations. 

2.  In  marriage. 

B.  In  religion. 

1.  Its  rise. 

a.  When  he  was  advanced  in  years. 

b.  Qut  of  his  long-continued  practice. 

2.  Its  fundamental  dogmas. 

a.  One  God. 

b.  Submission. 

3.  Its  promulgation. 

a.  In  face  of  opposition. 

b.  With  success. 

4.  The  Koran. 

a.  Its  influence. 

b.  Its  confusion. 

c.  Its  originality. 

d.  Its  rigor. 

C.  In  his  want  of  sensuality. 

1.  Reverence  in  which  he  was  held  by 

those  who  knew  him  face  to  face. 

2.  In  his  life  in  times  of  trial. 

3.  In  Koran. 

a.  In  betterment  of  what  was  gross. 

b.  In  spiritual  essence. 

D.  In  the  effect  of  his  teaching. 


INTERPRETATION  IOI 

This  method  is  not  peculiar  to  Carlyle  in  sketches 
that  deal  with  objects  or  events.  It  is  the  ordinary 
biographical-essay  method,  where  something  more 
than  the  biographical-dictionary  record  of  a  man's 
life  is  wanted,  and  where  complete  presentation  and 
discussion  are  not  possible.  The  writer  chooses  what 
seems  to  him  the  vital,  significant  quality,  the  essence 
of  a  man's  life  and  work,  and  shows  how  it  has  been 
developed  and  manifested  in  that  life  and  work. 
The  important  consideration  here  is  to  seize  the  true 
quality  of  the  man,  and  not  to  ascribe  a  false  one 
that  will  necessitate  a  warping  and  twisting  of  facts 
to  sustain  the  writer's  theory  regarding  his  subject. 

This  method  is  frequently  applied  to  historic  as 
well  as  to  personal  records.  Henry  Adams's  account 
of  the  battle  of  Tippecanoe  in  the  sixth  volume  of  his 
History  of  the  United  States,  is  so  given  as  to  sustain 
his  conviction  that  the  battle  was  forced  upon  the 
Indians. 

In  expository  essays  on  places,  the  writer  fre- 
quently determines  upon  the  general  character  or 
spirit  of  a  place,  and  presents  the  phases  that  show 
forth  that  character  or  spirit.  Arthur  Symons  begins 
his  sketch  of  Seville,  "  Seville,  more  than  any  city  I 
have  ever  seen,  is  the  city  of  pleasure."  The  explic- 
itness  of  Rome  is  the  theme  of  his  essay  on  the 
eternal  city  :  "The  Soul  of  Rome,"  he  says,  "is  a 
very  positive  soul  ...  in  which  it  is  useless  to  search 


102  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

for  delicate  shades,  the  mystery  of  suggestion,  a 
meaning  other  than  the  meaning  which,  in  a  profound 
enough  sense,  is  on  the  surface/'  The  antiquity  of 
the  town,  is  the  unifying  idea  for  Mr.  Henry  James's 
notes  on  Chester. 

Some  unifying  idea  of  this  sort  is  a  safeguard 
against  fragmentary  work,  and  may  be  an  element 
of  strength  in  a  piece  of  exposition.  If,  however,  it 
gives  the  reader  the  feeling  that  the  writer  is  sacrific- 
ing naturalness  and  truth  to  serve  his  theory,  it  is 
worse  than  useless.  Further,  while  it  is  well  for  us 
to  be  sensitive  to  the  atmosphere,  as  they  say,  per- 
vading persons  and  places,  and  to  phrase  that  impres- 
sion for  ourselves,  it  is  not  well  to  be  so  captivated 
by  the  first  impression,  or  any  one  impression,  that 
we  are  insensitive  to  counter  influences  when  they 
exist.  To  prevent  the  unfair  dominance  of  a  single 
idea,  it  is  well  to  write  a  reporter's  presentation  of  an 
object  before  writing  an  interpretation  of  it.  This  is 
a  valuable  practice  in  traveling :  to  write  the  first 
letter  about  a  new  place  after  the  reporter's  method, 
to  make  the  second  your  interpretation.  While  inter- 
pretation leads  in  the  exposition  we  are  considering, 
to  have  value,  it  must,  in  the  writer's  experience, 
follow  careful,  impersonal  observation. 

Speculation  about,  interpretation  of,  classes  of  ob- 
jects having  corporeal  reality  or  based  on  more  intan- 
gible, subjective  distinctions,  makes  delightful  essays. 


INTERPRETATION  103 

Stevenson's  and  Maeterlinck's  essays  on  the  dog,  the 
latter's  treatment  of  the  automobile,  are  examples  of 
entertaining  reflections  and  speculations  on  classes  of 
material  things.  Newman's  idea  of  a  gentleman 
affords  a  good  example  of  the  definition  and  analysis 
of  a  class  that  is  not  determined  by  physical  attri- 
butes. He  writes :  — 

"  .  .  .  it  is  almost  a  definition  of  a  gentleman  to  say  he 
is  one  who  never  inflicts  pain.  This  description  is  both  re- 
fined and,  as  far  as  it  goes,  accurate.  He  is  mainly  occupied 
in  merely  removing  the  obstacles  which  hinder  the  free 
and  unembarrassed  action  of  those  about  him ;  and  he  con- 
curs with  their  movements  rather  than  take  the  initiative 
himself.  His  benefits  may  be  considered  as  parallel  to  what 
are  called  comforts  or  conveniences  in  arrangements  of  a 
personal  nature  :  like  an  easy  chair  or  a  good  fire,  which  do 
their  part  in  dispelling  cold  and  fatigue,  though  nature  pro- 
vides both  means  of  rest  and  animal  heat  without  them. 
The  true  gentleman,  in  like  manner,  carefully  avoids  whatever 
may  cause  a  jar  or  a  jolt  in  the  minds  of  those  with  whom 
he  is  cast,  —  all  clashing  of  opinion,  or  collision  of  feeling, 
all  restraint,  or  suspicion,  or  gloom,  or  resentment ;  his 
great  concern  being  to  make  every  one  at  ease  and  at 
home.  He  has  his  eyes  on  all  his  company ;  he  is  tender 
toward  the  bashful,  gentle  toward  the  distant,  and  merciful 
toward  the  absurd ;  he  can  recollect  to  whom  he  is  speaking ; 
he  guards  against  unseasonable  allusions,  or  topics  which  may 
irritate ;  he  is  seldom  prominent  in  conversation,  and  never 
wearisome.  He  makes  light  of  favors  while  he  does  them, 
and  seems  to  be  receiving  when  he  is  conferring.  He  never 
speaks  of  himself  except  when  compelled,  never  defends 


104  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

himself  by  a  mere  retort,  he  has  no  ears  for  slander  or  gos- 
sip, is  scrupulous  in  imputing  motives  to  those  who  interfere 
with  him,  and  interprets  everything  for  the  best.  He  is 
never  mean  or  little  in  his  disputes,  never  takes  unfair  ad- 
vantage, never  mistakes  personalities  or  sharp  sayings  for 
arguments,  or  insinuates  evil  which  he  dare  not  say  out. 
From  a  long-sighted  prudence,  he  observes  the  maxim  of 
the  ancient  sage,  that  we  should  ever  conduct  ourselves 
toward  our  enemy  as  if  he  were  one  day  to  be  our  friend. 
He  has  too  much  good  sense  to  be  affronted  at  insults,  he  is 
too  well  employed  to  remember  injuries,  and  too  indolent 
to  bear  malice.  He  is  patient,  forbearing,  and  resigned,  on 
philosophical  principles ;  he  submits  to  pain  because  it  is 
inevitable,  to  bereavement  because  it  is  irreparable,  and  to 
death  because  it  is  his  destiny.  If  he  engages  in  con- 
troversy of  any  kind,  his  disciplined  intellect  preserves  him 
from  the  blundering  discourtesy  of  better,  perhaps,  but  less 
educated  minds,  who,  like  blunt  weapons,  tear  and  hack  in- 
stead of  cutting  clean,  who  mistake  the  point  in  argument, 
waste  their  strength  on  trifles,  misconceive  their  adversary, 
and  leave  the  question  more  involved  than  they  find  it.  He 
may  be  right  or  wrong  in  his  opinion,  but  he  is  too  clear- 
headed to  be  unjust ;  he  is  as  simple  as  he  is  forcible,  and 
as  brief  as  he  is  decisive.  Nowhere  shall  we  find  greater 
candor,  consideration,  indulgence  :  he  throws  himself  into 
the  minds  of  his  opponents ;  he  accounts  for  their  mistakes. 
He  knows  the  weakness  of  reason  as  well  as  its  strength,  its 
province  and  its  limits.  If  he  be  an  unbeliever,  he  will  be 
too  profound  and  large-minded  to  ridicule  religion  or  to  act 
against  it ;  he  is  too  wise  to  be  a  dogmatist  or  fanatic  in  his 
infidelity.  He  respects  piety  and  devotion ;  he  even  sup- 
ports institutions  as  venerable,  beautiful,  or  useful,  to  which 


INTERPRETATION  1 05 

he  does  not  assent;  he  honors  the  ministers  of  religion, 
and  it  contents  him  to  decline  its  mysteries  without  assailing 
or  denouncing  them.  He  is  a  friend  of  religious  toleration, 
and  that,  not  only  because  his  philosophy  has  taught  him  to 
look  on  all  forms  of  faith  with  an  impartial  eye,  but  also 
from  the  gentleness  and  effeminacy  of  feeling,  which  is  the 
attendant  on  civilization." 

—  JOHN  HENRY  NEWMAN  :  Knowledge  and  Religious  Duty. 
By  permission  of  Longmans,  Green,  and  Company. 

Criticism  of  art,  letters,  public  affairs,  the  exegesis 
of  texts,  speculation  on  such  purely  abstract  ideas  as 
character,  genius,  love,  education,  belong  under  inter- 
pretative exposition.  The  more  abstract  the  subject, 
the  more  the  writer  must  depend  upon  himself  for 
what  he  writes.  Emerson  could  write  on  friendship, 
compensation,  self-reliance,  in  such  a  way  as  to  inter- 
est, convince,  and  stimulate  his  reader.  His  essays 
on  these  familiar  subjects  are  interesting,  not  because 
they  present  novel  theories  or  eccentric  ideas,  but  be- 
cause they  tell  us  much  that  we  all  recognize  to  be 
true,  but  which  we  had  not  thought  out  for  ourselves. 
The  interpreter  must  not  go  off  on  tangents  and  put 
faith  in  the  unusual  and  the  fantastic  to  secure  interest. 
He  must  rather  work  harder  than  his  readers  work 
along  the  line  on  which  they  work,  and  see  more 
deeply  into  the  heart  of  things  than  they  see  without 
his  help.  He  must  open  the  way,  not  that  his  readers 
may  have  a  curious  or  entertaining  vista,  but  that  they 
may  follow  him.  It  takes  one  who  is  a  thinker  to  do 


106  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 

this.  There  are  some  lines  upon  which  all  of  us  have 
done  a  good  deal  of  feeling  and  thinking,  and  if  we 
take  pains  to  find  out  exactly  what  we  think  and  feel 
and  to  present  it  in  a  specific,  suggestive,  individual 
way,  we  shall  be  interesting,  even  though  our  ideas 
are  not  novel.  It  is  our  writing  from  within,  our  giv- 
ing what  on  close  analysis  we  find  ourselves  to  believe 
rather  than  the  conventional  view  that  we  have  ac- 
cepted from  others,  that  makes  our  interpretation 
vital.  If  we  reach  by  our  own  processes  a  well-known 
truth,  it  comes  out  as  fresh  and  alive  in  its  effect  as  if 
it  had  never  before  been  enunciated. 

The  methods  by  which  we  develop  such  subjects 
are  still  definition  and  analysis.  Definition  by  syn- 
onym, by  scientific  method,  by  the  affirmation  and 
the  denial  of  identity,  resemblance,  causes,  qualities, 
manifestations,  or  effects,  any  and  all  of  these 
methods  may  be  used  before  the  subject  is  resolved 
by  analysis  into  elements  or  phases  that  in  turn  call 
for  definition. 

Concrete  phrasing  in  presenting  abstract  truth  is 
usually  more  interesting  than  abstract.  For  an  illus- 
tration of  this,  take  the  following  two  sentences  from 
Herbert  Spencer's  Philosophy  of  Style  :  "  In  propor- 
tion as  the  manners,  customs,  and  amusements  of  a 
nation  are  cruel  and  barbarous,  the  regulations  of 
their  penal  code  will  be  severe. " 

"  In  proportion  as  men  delight  in  battles,  bull-fights, 


INTERPRETATION  107 

and  combats  of  gladiators,  will  they  punish  by  hang- 
ing, burning,  and  the  rack." 

EXERCISES 

i.  What  is  the  purpose  of  the  following  editorial? 
Write  a  statement  of  the  fact  upon  which  it  is  based:  — 

"The  action  of  the  Senate  has  assured  both  Senators  and 
Representatives  that  their  pay  will  be  raised  from  $5000  a 
year  to  $  7500.  This  increase  of  fifty  per  cent  marks,  we 
doubt  not,  the  rough  estimate  of  Congress  as  to  the  recent 
increase  in  the  cost  of  living.  If  we  are  to  do  anything 
more  than  give  our  lawmakers  a  mere  honorarium,  $  7500 
is  not,  under  present  circumstances,  too  large  a  salary.  The 
English  system  of  an  unpaid  Parliament  does  not  accord 
with  our  traditions  and  sentiments.  For  one  thing,  we  do 
not  care  to  recognize  officially  a  class  of  landed  or  wealthy 
gentlemen  who  give  their  services  to  the  government,  and 
who  thus  secure  for  their  class  —  almost  inevitably  —  rather 
more  consideration  than  its  numbers  or  intelligence  would 
warrant.  In  Germany  the  pay  of  members  of  the  Reichstag 
is  low,  and,  as  a  consequence,  the  representatives  of  labor,  as 
in  England  too,  are  often  supported  by  labor  organizations. 
Such  members  can  scarcely  be  more  than  mere  spokesmen 
for  the  unions  —  just  as  some  of  our  senators  .  .  .  are  only 
mouthpieces  for  railways  or  other  corporations.  In  a  crisis 
such  retained  attorneys  can  never  exhibit  independence  of 
judgment.  If,  then,  we  are  fully  committed  to  the  principle 
of  fair  play,  we  see  no  reason  why,  in  addition  to  allowances 
for  secretaries  and  clerks,  the  Congressmen  should  not  share 
the  general  rise  in  wages." 

—  The  Nation,  Vol.  84,  No.  2170,  p.  96. 


108  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

2.  Write  an  editorial  for  a  magazine  devoted  to 
the  improvement  of  the  condition  of  animals,  based 
on   the   following  news  paragraph  in   the    Monday 
morning  issue  of  a  daily  paper :  — 

"Yesterday  afternoon  at  about  three  o'clock,  when  the 
heat  was  most  intense,  the  attention  of  a  passer-by  was 
attracted  by  the  condition  of  the  caged  birds  and  animals 
in  the  window  of  A.  B.  Street's  animal  store.  One  of  the 
birds  was  dead ;  all  of  the  animals  in  the  unshaded  window 
seemed  to  be  on  the  verge  of  heat  prostration.  By  dint  of 
some  effort  the  proprietor  was  found,  and  relief  was  brought 
to  the  suffering  animals." 

3.  Write  a  news  paragraph  for  a  school   paper, 
presenting  without  comment  some  matter  of  general 
school  interest. 

Write  an  editorial  based  on  your  news  paragraph. 

4.  a.    Read    carefully    Newman's   sketch    of    St. 
Philip  Neri  (page  109)  and  make  an  outline  of  it. 

b.  Select  for  similar  treatment  some  character  of 
fiction  or  history,  as  :  Lincoln,  Joan  of  Arc,  Henry  V., 
Brutus,    Sir    Roger    de    Coverley,    David,    Joseph, 
Mahomet,  Shylock,  etc. 

c.  Write  a  piece  of  biographical  exposition  about 
the  person  chosen  :  — 

First,  discover  the  keynote  of  the  character's  life. 

Secondly,  select  those  particulars  in  his  environ- 
ment that  make  that  character  significant,  as  New- 
man gave  the  allurements  of  the  world  as  the 


INTERPRETATION  IOQ 

background  for  the  exercise  of  St.  Philip's  purpose 
of  making  felt  the  counter  fascination  of  purity  and 
truth. 

Thirdly,  state  his  distinctive  characteristics. 

Fourthly,  show  how  he  differed  from  other  influen- 
tial characters  working  in  the  same  field. 

Fifthly,  characterize  definitely  by  aim  and  method. 
Comment.  Give  results.  Give  testimony.  Close 
with  clinching  evidence  of  success  or  failure :  — 

"  He  [St.  Philip  Neri]  lived  in  an  age  as  traitorous  to  the 
interests  of  Catholicism  as  any  that  preceded  it,  or  can  fol- 
low it.  He  lived  at  a  time  when  pride  mounted  high,  and 
the  senses  held  rule ;  a  time  when  kings  and  nobles  never 
had  more  of  state  and  homage,  and  never  less  of  personal 
responsibility  and  peril ;  when  mediaeval  winter  was  reced- 
ing, and  the  summer  sun  of  civilization  was  bringing  into 
leaf  and  flower  a  thousand  forms  of  luxurious  enjoyment ; 
when  a  new  world  of  thought  and  beauty  had  opened  upon 
the  human  mind,  in  the  discovery  of  the  treasures  of  classic 
literature  and  art.  He  saw  the  great  and  the  gifted,  daz- 
zled by  the  Enchantress,  and  drinking  in  the  magic  of  her 
song ;  he  saw  the  high  and  the  wise,  the  student  and  the 
artist,  painting,  and  poetry,  and  sculpture,  and  music,  and 
architecture,  drawn  within  her  range  and  circling  round  the 
abyss ;  he  saw  heathen  forms  mounting  thence,  and  forming 
in  the  thick  air,  —  all  this  he  saw,  and  he  perceived  that 
the  mischief  was  to  be  met,  not  with  argument,  not  with 
science,  not  with  protests  and  warnings,  not  by  the  recluse 
or  the  preacher,  but  by  means  of  the  great  counter  fascina- 
tion of  purity  and  truth.  He  was  raised  up  to  do  a  work 


1 10  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

almost  peculiar  in  the  Church,  —  not  to  be  a  Jerome  Savon- 
arola, though  Philip  had  a  true  devotion  toward  him,  and  a 
tender  memory  of  his  Florentine  house ;  not  to  be  a  St. 
Charles,  though  in  his  beaming  countenance  Philip  had 
recognized  the  aureole  of  a  saint ;  not  to  be  a  St.  Ignatius, 
wrestling  with  the  foe,  though  Philip  was  termed  the 
Society's  bell  of  call,  so  many  subjects  did  he  send  to  it; 
not  to  be  a  St.  Francis  Xavier,  though  Philip  had  longed 
to  shed  his  blood  for  Christ  in  India  with  him  ;  not  to  be  a 
St.  Caietan,  or  hunter  of  souls,  for  Philip  preferred,  as  he 
expressed  it,  tranquilly  to  cast  in  his  net  to  gain  them ;  he 
preferred  to  yield  to  the  stream,  and  direct  the  current, 
which  he  could  not  stop,  of  science,  literature,  art,  and 
fashion,  and  to  sweeten  and  to  sanctify  what  God  had  made 
very  good  and  man  had  spoilt. 

"  And  so  he  contemplated  as  the  idea  of  his  mission,  not 
the  propagation  of  the  faith,  nor  the  exposition  of  doctrine, 
nor  the  catechetical  schools ;  whatever  was  exact  and  sys- 
tematic pleased  him  not ;  he  put  from  him  monastic  rule 
and  authoritative  speech,  as  David  refused  the  armor  of 
his  king.  No ;  he  would  be  but  an  ordinary  individual 
priest  as  others,  and  his  weapons  should  be  but  unaffected 
humility  and  unpretending  love.  All  he  did  was  to  be  done 
by  the  light,  and  fervor,  and  convincing  eloquence  of  his 
personal  character  and  his  easy  conversation.  He  came  to 
the  Eternal  City  and  he  sat  himself  down  there,  and  his 
home  and  his  family  gradually  grew  up  around  him,  by  the 
spontaneous  accession  of  materials  from  without.  He  did 
not  so  much  seek  his  own  as  draw  them  to  him.  He  sat  in 
his  small  room,  and  they  in  their  gay  worldly  dresses,  the 
rich  and  the  well-born,  as  well  as  the  simple  and  the  illiterate, 
crowded  into  it.  In  the  mid-heats  of  summer,  in  the  frosts 


INTERPRETATION  1 1 1 

of  winter,  still  was  he  in  that  low  and  narrow  cell  at  San 
Girolamo,  reading  the  hearts  of  those  who  came  to  him, 
and  curing  their  souls'  maladies  by  the  very  touch  of  his 
hand.  It  was  a  vision  of  the  Magi  worshiping  the  infant 
Savior,  so  pure  and  innocent,  so  sweet  and  beautiful  was 
he ;  and  so  loyal  and  dear  to  the  gracious  Virgin  Mother. 
And  they  who  came  remained  gazing  and  listening,  till  at 
length,  first  one  and  then  another  threw  off  their  bravery, 
and  took  his  poor  cassock  and  girdle  instead  :  or,  if  they 
kept  it,  it  was  to  put  haircloth  under  it,  or  to  take  on  them 
a  rule  of  life,  while  to  the  world  they  looked  as  before. 

"  In  the  words  of  his  biographers,  '  he  was  all  things  to 
all  men.  He  suited  himself  to  noble  and  ignoble,  young 
and  old,  subjects  and  prelates,  learned  and  ignorant ;  and 
received  those  who  were  strangers  to  him  with  singular 
benignity,  and  embraced  them  with  as  much  love  and 
charity  as  if  he  had  been  a  long  while  expecting  them. 
When  he  was  called  upon  to  be  merry,  he  was  so ;  if  there 
was  a  demand  for  his  sympathy,  he  was  equally  ready.  He 
gave  the  same  welcome  to  all ;  caressing  the  poor  equally 
with  the  rich,  and  wearying  himself  to  assist  all  to  the  ut- 
most limits  of  his  power.  In  consequence  of  his  being  so 
accessible  and  willing  to  receive  all  comers,  many  went  to 
him  every  day,  and  some  continued  for  a  space  of  thirty, 
nay,  forty  years,  to  visit  him  very  often  both  morning  and 
evening,  so  that  his  room  went  by  the  agreeable  nickname 
of  the  Home  of  Christian  Mirth.  Nay,  people  came  to  him, 
not  only  from  all  parts  of  Italy,  but  from  France,  Spain, 
Germany,  and  all  Christendom;  and  even  the  infidels  and 
Jews,  who  had  ever  any  communication  with  him  revered 
him  as  a  holy  man/  The  first  families  of  Rome,  the  Mas- 
simi,  the  Aldobrandini,  the  Colonnas,  the  Altieri,  the  Vitel- 


112  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 

leschi,  were  his  friends  and  his  penitents.  Nobles  of  Poland, 
Grandees  of  Spain,  Knights  of  Malta,  could  not  leave  Rome 
without  coming  to  him.  Cardinals,  Archbishops,  and 
Bishops  were  his  intimates;  Federigo  Borromeo  haunted 
his  room  and  got  the  name  of  '  Father  Philip's  soul.'  The 
Cardinal-Archbishops  of  Verona  and  Bologna  wrote  books  in 
his  honor.  Pope  Pius  the  Fourth  died  in  his  arms.  Lawyers, 
painters,  musicians,  physicians,  it  was  the  same,  too,  with  them. 
Baronius,  Zazzara,  and  Ricci  left  the  law  at  his  bidding,  and 
joined  his  congregation,  to  do  its  work,  to  write  the  annals 
of  the  Church,  and  to  die  in  the  odor  of  sanctity.  Pales- 
trina  had  Father  Philip's  ministrations  in  his  last  moments. 
Animuccia  hung  about  him  during  life,  sent  him  a  message 
after  death,  and  was  conducted  by  him  through  Purgatory 
to  Heaven.  And  who  was  he,  I  say,  all  the  while,  but  a 
humble  priest,  a  stranger  in  Rome,  with  no  distinction  of 
family  or  letters,  no  claim  of  station  or  of  office,  great  sim- 
ply in  the  attraction  with  which  a  Divine  Power  had  gifted 
him?  and  yet  thus  humble,  thus  unennobled,  thus  empty- 
handed,  he  has  achieved  the  glorious  title  of  Apostle  of 
Rome."  —  CARDINAL  NEWMAN:  The  Idea  of  a  University. 
By  permission  of  Longmans,  Green,  and  Company. 

5.  Choose  some  class  or  type  of  people,  such  as 
the  college  girl,  the  grandmother,  the  country  doctor, 
the  teacher,  a  friend,  and  write  a  two  or  three  page 
exposition  of  the  subject,  using  the  method  followed 
by  Newman  in  the   interpretation  of   a  gentleman, 
quoted  on  pages  103-105. 

6.  Read  over  the  following  pieces  of  exposition, 
and  be  able  to  tell  to  what  extent  they  are  interpre- 
tative :  — 


INTERPRETATION  I I 3 

"  He  was  exceedingly  unlike  other  people,  of  course,  even 
then  ;  his  face  possessed  quite  as  much  beauty  as  strange- 
ness. Three  things  were  in  those  days  particularly  notice- 
able in  the  head  of  Coventry  Patmore  :  the  vast,  convex 
brows,  arched  with  vision;  the  bright,  shrewd,  bluish-gray 
eyes,  the  outer  fold  of  one  eyelid  permanently  and  humor- 
ously drooping;  and  the  willful,  sensuous  mouth.  These 
three  seemed  ever  at  war  among  themselves.  They  spoke 
three  different  tongues ;  they  proclaimed  a  man  of  dreams, 
a  canny  man  of  business,  a  man  of  vehement  physical  deter- 
mination. It  was  the  harmony  of  these  in  apparently  dis- 
cordant contrast  which  made  the  face  so  fascinating ;  the 
dwellers  under  the  strange  mask  were  three,  and  the  problem 
was  how  they  contrived  the  common  life.  The  same  incon- 
gruity pervaded  all  the  poet's  figure ;  when  at  rest,  standing 
or  sitting,  he  was  remarkably  graceful,  falling  easily  into  lan- 
guid, undulating  poses.  No  sooner  did  he  begin  to  walk 
than  he  became  grotesque  at  once ;  the  long,  thin  neck  thrust 
out,  the  angularity  of  the  limbs  emphasized  in  every  rapid, 
inelegant  movement.  Sailing  along  the  Parade  at  Hastings, 
his  hands  deep  in  the  pockets  of  his  short,  black- velvet  jacket, 
his  gray  curls  escaping  from  under  a  broad,  soft,  wide-awake 
hat,  his  long,  thin  legs,  like  compasses  measuring  the  miles,  his 
fancy  manifestly  '  reaching  to  some  great  world  in  ungauged 
darkness  hid,'  Coventry  Patmore  was  an  apparition  never  to 
be  forgotten."  —  EDMUND  GOSSE  :  Coventry  Patmore. 
By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

"The  first  frost  seems  to  bring  a  ripening  of  summer. 
The  woods  break  into  color,  and  the  sun  has  a  peculiar 
brooding  warmth.  But  soon  comes  a  night  storm,  and  the 
next  day  there  is  everywhere  a  new  look,  a  new  feeling. 

EXPOSITION  —  8 


114  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 

The  country  is  like  a  face  from  which,  through  some  hard 
experience,  richness  of  color  has  faded,  flesh  contour  fallen 
away.  The  reds  and  yellows  are  still  there,  but  they  do  not 
glow  —  they  are  cool,  quiet,  blending  with  somber  browns 
and  grays.  Branches  and  trunks  are  thinned  of  their  cov- 
ering. The  sunlight  is  softer,  paler  —  the  shadows  fleeting. 
Summer  has  been  washed  away — and  what  remains  is 
gentle,  sad,  austere,  the  beginning  of  the  later  autumn." 
— ANNA  TATUM  :  We  lies  ley  College  Magazine. 

"  It  [Rembrandt's  Jacob's  Dream\  is  full  of  imagination 
and  grandeur  —  and  yet  perfectly  Dutch,  too,  for  Jacob  is 
nothing  but  a  Flemish  peasant,  even  to  the  costume.  But 
those  wondrous  angels !  There  are  only  two,  and  yet  they 
are  enough  —  so  dim,  and  dreamy  and  majestic  they  are, 
and  one  thinks  he  can  make  out  hosts  of  them  in  that 
darkling  glory  behind.  It  is  just  a  brown  heath,  with  one 
brown  dream  of  a  tree,  under  which  lies  a  brown  Jacob. 
Everything  is  brown  but  the  two  gray  angels,  both  draped 
below  the  feet,  and  with  such  soft,  such  silent  wings — 
yet  so  full  of  sweep  and  sustentation  !  " 
— JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL  :  Letters  of  James  Russell  Low  elL 
Copyright,  1893,  by  Harper  and  Brothers. 

"That  oak  by  Derby's  is  a  grand  object  seen  from  any 
side.  It  stands  like  an  athlete  and  defies  the  tempests  in 
every  direction.  It  has  not  a  weak  point.  It  is  an  agony 
of  strength.  Its  branches  look  like  stereotyped  gray  light- 
ning on  the  sky.  But  I  fear  a  price  is  set  upon  its  sturdy 
trunk  and  roots,  for  ship  timber,  for  knees  to  make  stiff  the 
sides  of  ships  against  the  Atlantic  billows.  Like  an  athlete 
it  shows  its  well-developed  muscles." — THOREAU  :  Journal 


INTERPRETATION  1 1 5 

"Whenever  I  take  up  Emerson's  poems  I  find  myself 
turning  automatically  to  his  Bacchus.  Elsewhere,  in  de- 
tached passages  embedded  in  mediocre  verse,  he  rises  for  a 
moment  to  heights  not  reached  by  any  other  of  our  poets ; 
but  '  Bacchus '  is  in  the  grand  style  throughout.  Its  tex- 
ture can  bear  comparison  with  the  world's  best  in  this  kind. 
In  imaginative  quality  and  austere  richness  of  diction,  what 
other  verse  of  our  period  approaches  it?  The  day  Emer- 
son wrote  Bacchus  he  had  in  him,  as  Michael  Drayton 
said  of  Marlowe,  '  Those  brave  translucent  things  that  the 
first  poet  had.'" 

— THOMAS  BAILEY  ALDRICH  :  Ponkapog  Papers. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

"As  I  stood  by  the  track  the  other  night,  Michael,  the 
switchman,  was  holding  the  road  for  the  nine  o'clock  freight, 
with  his  faded  flag,  and  his  grim  brown  pipe,  and  his  wooden 
leg.  As  it  rumbled  by  him,  headlight,  clatter,  and  smoke, 
and  whirl,  and  halo  of  the  steam,  every  brakeman  backing 
to  the  wind,  lying  on  the  air,  at  the  jolt  of  the  switch, 
started,  as  at  some  greeting  out  of  the  dark,  and  turned  and 
gave  the  sign  to  Michael.  All  of  the  brakemen  gave  it. 
Then  we  watched  them,  Michael  and  I,  out  of  the  roar  and 
the  hiss  of  their  splendid  cloud,  their  flickering,  swaying 
bodies  against  the  sky,  flying  out  to  the  night,  until  there 
was  nothing  but  the  dull  red  murmur  and  the  falling  of 
smoke. 

"  Michael  hobbled  back  to  his  mansion  by  the  rails.  He 
put  up  the  foot  that  was  left  from  the  wreck,  and  puffed  and 
puffed.  He  had  been  a  brakeman  himself. 

"  Brakemen  are  prosaic  men  enough,  no  doubt,  in  the 
ordinary  sense,  but  they  love  a  railroad  as  Shakespeare 


Il6  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

loved  a  sonnet.  It  is  not  given  to  brakemen,  as  it  is  to 
poets,  to  show  to  the  world  as  it  passes  by  that  their  ideals 
are  beautiful.  They  give  their  lives  for  them, — hundreds  of 
lives  a  year.  These  lives  may  be  sordid  lives  looked  at 
from  the  outside,  but  mystery,  danger,  surprise,  dark  cities, 
and  glistening  lights,  roar,  dust,  and  water,  and  death,  and 
life, — these  play  their  endless  spell  upon  them.  They  love 
the  shining  of  the  track.  It  is  wrought  into  the  very  fiber 
of  their  being. 

"Years  pass  and  years,  and  still  more  years.  Who  shall 
persuade  brakemen  to  leave  the  track  ?  They  never  leave 
it.  I  shall  always  see  them  —  on  their  flying  footboards 
beneath  the  sky — swaying  and  rocking — still  swaying  and 
rocking,  on  to  eternity." 

—  GERALD  STANLEY  LEE  :  "  The  Poetry  of  a  Machine 
Age."  The  Atlantic  Monthly. 

The  Gleaners  :  — 

"Those  three  similar  weary  women,  all  with  eyes  bent  earth- 
ward, two  stooping,  one  half-upright,  seem  to  typify  the  past, 
the  present,  and  the  future  of  one  whose  life  is  just  to  stoop, 
to  rise,  to  stoop  again — with  only  a  heavier  burden  for  her 
pains.  I  must  have  been  in  a  restless  mood  when  the  fate- 
ful monotony  of  it  pleased  me,  not  so  far  along,  surely,  in 
my  slow  journey  after  the  reapers,  with  earth-bound  eye  and 
bended  back." 

"  Beneath  my  tremulous  hand  the  monster  is  alert  and 
docile ;  and  on  either  side  of  the  road  the  cornfields  flow 
peacefully  onward,  true  rivers  of  green.  The  time  has  now 
come  to  try  the  power  of  esoteric  action.  I  touch  the  magi- 
cal handles.  The  fairy  horse  obeys.  It  stops  abruptly  — 
one  short  moan,  and  its  life  has  all  ebbed  away.  It  is  now 
nothing  more  than  a  vast,  inert  mass  of  metal.  How  to 


INTERPRETATION  1 1 7 

resuscitate  it?  I  descend,  and  eagerly  inspect  the  corpse. 
The  plains,  whose  submissive  immensity  I  have  been  braving, 
begin  to  contemplate  revenge.  Now  that  I  have  ceased  to 
move,  they  fling  themselves  further  and  wider  around  me. 
The  blue  distance  seems  to  recede,  the  sky  to  recoil.  I  am 
lost  among  the  impassable  cornfields,  whose  myriad  heads 
press  forward,  whispering  softly,  craning  to  see  what  I  am 
proposing  to  do ;  while  the  poppies,  in  the  midst  of  the 
undulating  crowd,  nod  their  red  caps  and  burst  into  thou- 
sandfold laughter.  But  no  matter,  my  recent  science  is  sure 
of  itself.  The  hippogriff  revives,  gives  its  first  snort  of  life, 
and  then  departs  once  more,  singing  its  song.  I  reconquer 
the  plains,  which  again  bow  down  before  me.  I  give  a  slow 
turn  to  the  mysterious  '  advance  ignition '  lever,  and  regu- 
late carefully  the  admission  of  the  petrol.  The  pace  grows 
faster  and  faster;  the  delirious  wheels  cry  aloud  in  their 
gladness.  And  at  first  the  road  comes  moving  toward  me, 
like  a  bride  waving  palms,  rhythmically  keeping  time  to 
some  joyous  melody.  But  soon  it  grows  frantic,  springs 
forward,  and  throws  itself  madly  upon  me,  rushing  under  the 
car  like  a  furious  torrent,  whose  foam  lashes  my  face ;  it 
drowns  me  beneath  its  waves,  it  blinds  me  with  its  breath. 
Oh,  that  wonderful  breath  !  It  is  as  though  wings,  as  though 
myriad  wings  no  eye  can  see,  transparent  wings  of  great 
supernatural  birds  that  have  their  homes  on  invisible  moun- 
tains swept  by  eternal  snow,  have  come  to  refresh  my  eyes 
and  my  brow  with  their  overwhelming  fragrance  !  Now  the 
road  drops  sheer  into  *the  abyss,  and  the  magical  carriage 
rushes  ahead  of  it.  The  trees,  that  for  so  many  slow-moving 
years  have  serenely  dwelt  on  its  borders,  shrink  back  in 
dread  of  disaster.  They  seem  to  be  hastening  one  to  the 
other,  to  approach  their  green  heads,  and  in  startled  groups 


Il8  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

to  debate  how  to  bar  the  way  of  the  strange  apparition. 
But  as  this  rushes  onward,  they  take  panic,  and  scatter  and 
fly,  each  one  quickly  seeking  its  own  habitual  place ;  and  as 
I  pass  they  bend  tumultuously  forward,  and  their  myriad 
leaves,  quick  to  the  mad  joy  of  the  force  that  is  chanting  its 
hymn,  murmur  in  my  ears  the  voluble  psalm  of  Space, 
acclaiming  and  greeting  the  enemy  that  hitherto  has  always 
been  conquered,  but  now  at  last  triumphs  :  Speed." 

—  MAURICE  MAETERLINCK,  The  Double  Garden. 
Translated  by  Alexander  Teixeira  de  Mattos. 
Copyright,  1904,  by  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company. 

"Philistine  must  have  originally  meant,  in  the  minds  of  those 
who  invented  the  nickname,  a  strong,  dogged,  unenlightened 
opponent  of  the  chosen  people,  of  the  children  of  the  light. 
The  party  of  change,  the  would-be  remodelers  of  the  old 
traditional  European  order,  the  invokers  of  reason  against 
custom,  the  representatives  of  the  modern  spirit  in  every 
sphere  where  it  is  applicable,  regarded  themselves,  with  the 
robust  self-confidence  natural  to  reformers  as  a  chosen 
people,  as  children  of  the  light.  They  regarded  their 
adversaries  as  humdrum  people,  slaves  to  routine,  enemies 
to  light ;  stupid  and  oppressive,  but  at  the  same  time  very 
strong.  This  explains  the  love  which  Heine,  that  Paladin  of 
the  modern  spirit,  has  for  France  ;  it  explains  the  preference 
which  he  gives  to  France  over  Germany.  'The  French,' 
he  says,  '  are  the  chosen  people  of  the  new  religion,  its 
first  gospels  and  dogmas  have  been  drawn  up  in  their 
language ;  Paris  is  the  new  Jerusalem,  and  the  Rhine  is  the 
Jordan  which  divides  the  consecrated  land  of  freedom  from 
the  land  of  the  Philistines.'  He  means  that  the  French,  as 
a  people,  have  shown  more  accessibility  to  ideas  than  any 
other  people;  that  prescription  and  routine  have  had  less 


INTERPRETATION  1 1 9 

hold  upon  them  than  upon  any  other  people  ;  that  they  have 
shown  most  readiness  to  move  and  to  alter  at  the  bidding 
(real  or  supposed)  of  reason.  This  explains,  too,  the  detesta- 
tion which  Heine  had  for  the  English :  '  I  might  settle  in 
England,'  he  says,  in  his  exile,  *  if  it  were  not  that  I  should 
find  there  two  things,  coal-smoke  and  Englishmen ;  I  cannot 
abide  either.'  What  he  hated  in  the  English  was  the  '  acht- 
brittische  Beschranktheit,'  as  he  calls  it,  —  the  genuine 
British  narrowness.  In  truth,  the  English,  profoundly  as 
they  have  modified  the  old  Middle-Age  order,  great  as  is 
the  liberty  which  they  have  secured  for  themselves,  have  in 
all  their  changes  proceeded,  to  use  a  familiar  expression,  by 
the  rule  of  thumb ;  what  was  intolerably  inconvenient  to 
them  they  have  suppressed,  and  as  they  have  suppressed  it 
not  because  it  was  irrational,  but  because  it  was  practically 
inconvenient,  they  have  seldom  in  suppressing  it  appealed 
to  reason,  but  always,  if  possible,  to  some  precedent,  or 
form,  or  letter,  which  served  as  a  convenient  instrument 
for  their  purpose,  and  which  saved  them  from  the  necessity 
of  recurring  to  general  principles.  They  have  thus  be- 
come, in  a  certain  sense,  of  all  people  the  most  inaccessible 
to  ideas  and  the  most  impatient  of  them,  because  they 
have  got  on  so  well  without  them,  that  they  despise 
those  who,  not  having  got  on  as  well  as  themselves,  still 
make  a  fuss  for  what  they  themselves  have  done  so  well 
without.  But  there  has  certainly  followed  from  hence,  in 
this  country,  somewhat  of  a  general  depression  of  pure 
intelligence  :  Philistia  has  come  to  be  thought  by  us  the 
the  true  Land  of  Promise,  and  it  is  anything  but  that ;  the 
born  lover  of  ideas,  the  born  hater  of  commonplaces,  must 
feel  in  this  country  that  the  sky  over  his  head  is  of  brass 
and  iron.  The  enthusiast  for  the  idea,  for  reason,  values 


120  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

reason,  the  idea,  in  and  for  themselves;  he  values  them 
irrespectively  of  the  practical  conveniences  which  their 
triumph  may  obtain  for  him ;  and  the  man  who  regards  the 
possession  of  these  practical  conveniences  as  something 
sufficient  in  itself,  something  which  compensates  for  the 
absence  or  surrender  of  the  idea,  of  reason,  is,  in  his  eyes,  a 
Philistine.  This  is  why  Heine  so  often  and  so  mercilessly 
attacks  the  liberals ;  much  as  he  hates  conservatism,  he  hates 
Philistinism  even  more,  and  whoever  attacks  conservatism 
itself  ignobly,  not  as  a  child  of  light,  not  in  the  name  of  the 
idea,  is  a  Philistine.  Our  Cobbett  is  thus  for  him,  much  as  he 
disliked  our  clergy  and  aristocracy  whom  Cobbett  attacked, 
a  Philistine  with  six  fingers  on  every  hand,  and  on  every  foot 
six  toes,  four-and-twenty  in  number :  a  Philistine,  the  staff 
of  whose  spear  is  like  a  weaver's  beam." 

—  MATTHEW  ARNOLD  :  Essays  in  Criticism, 

7.  Write  five  short  interpretative  studies ;  for  ex- 
ample, an  interpretation  of  a  person,  a  face,  a  line  of 
poetry,  a  place,  etc. 

8.  What  is  the  abstract  idea  conveyed  by  the  fol- 
lowing paragraph  ? 

"  When  but  a  schoolgirl  it  had  occurred  to  her  one  day  in 
the  Ancient  History  class  to  wonder  if  the  Christian  religion, 
too,  might  not  be  a  myth.  Some  years  later,  when  looking 
over  the  ship's  side  watching  the  snowflakes  melt  in  the 
dark  water,  she  had  been  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  the 
soul's  Nirvana.  As  she  sat  in  church  one  Easter  Sunday, 
and  saw  a  beautiful  child  taken  up  for  baptism,  and  remem- 
bered the  mother  who  had  died  at  its  birth,  she  had  a  new 
conception  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body.  At  her  aged 
grandfather's  birthday  festival,  the  sight  of  his  sons  and 


INTERPRETATION  1 2 1 

daughters  and  their  children  doing  the  old  man  honor  had 
touched  and  satisfied  her,  and  she  had  told  herself  that 
there  was  no  other  immortality  for  man  than  posterity. 
But  when  she  stood  beside  the  grave  of  the  younger  sister, 
whose  life  had  been  part  of  her  life,  her  faith  was  as  un- 
questioning as  in  the  sweet  old  Now-I-lay-me-down-to-sleep 
days  of  childhood,  and  somewhere  up  above  the  blue  sky, 
there  was  for  her  a  heaven  where  God  might  be,  but  where 
surely  the  mother  who  had  taught  her  so,  waited  to  welcome 
her  children." 

9.    Develop  an  abstract  idea  in  concrete  terms. 


INTERPRETATIVE   PRESENTATION 

WE  have  considered  exposition  in  which  presenta- 
tion of  facts  was  the  main  purpose.  We  have  con- 
sidered exposition  by  means  of  direct  interpretation 
or  interpretation  confirmed  by  presentation  of  facts. 
We  have  now  to  consider  that  branch  of  exposition 
whose  purpose  is  interpretation,  but  whose  method  is 
entirely  or  mainly  presentation.  In  this  concrete 
criticism,  as  it  is  called,  the  interpretation  is  implied 
rather  than  expressed.  The  writer  does  not,  or  at 
least  need  not,  declare  the  inferences  to  be  drawn 
from  the  facts  presented.  They  are  so  presented  as 
to  speak  for  themselves,  as  to  lead  the  reader  inevita- 
bly to  the  writer's  conclusion.  At  its  best,  this  sort 
of  exposition  is  scarcely  distinguishable  from  pure 
description  or  pure  narration;  the  details  are  so 
convincingly  presented  that  the  resulting  impression 
seems  independent  of  any  conscious  purpose  on  the 
author's  part.  The  following  paragraph  from  Walter 
Pater's  Harms  is  a  case  in  point :  — 

"The  resting-place  to  which  he  presently  came,  in  the 
keen,  wholesome  air  of  the  market-place  of  the  little  hill- 
town,  was  a  pleasant  contrast  to  that  last  effort  of  his  journey. 
The  room  in  which  he  sat  down  to  supper,  unlike  the  ordi- 
nary Roman  inns  at  that  day,  was  trim  and  sweet.  The  fire- 

122 


INTERPRETATIVE  PRESENTATION  123 

light  danced  cheerfully  upon  the  polished,  three-wicked 
lucerncz  burning  clearly  with  the  best  oil,  upon  the  white- 
washed walls,  and  the  bunches  of  scarlet  carnations  set  in 
glass  goblets.  The  white  wine  of  the  place  put  before  him, 
of  the  true  color  and  flavor  of  the  grape,  and  with  a  ring 
of  delicate  foam  as  it  mounted  in  the  cup,  had  a  reviving 
edge  or  freshness  he  had  found  in  no  other  wine.  These 
things  had  relieved  a  little  the  melancholy  of  the  hour  be- 
fore ;  and  it  was  just  then  that  he  heard  the  voice  of  one, 
newly  arrived  at  the  inn,  making  his  way  to  the  upper  floor 
—  a  youthful  voice,  with  a  reassuring  clearness  of  note  — 
which  completed  his  cure." 

Pater's  purpose  here  was  evidently  not  to  give  a 
picture  of  the  room,  but  rather  to  give  the  impression 
of  tonic  cheerfulness  it  imparted.  He  has  gained 
this  end,  not  by  insisting  on  the  effect  of  the  cleanli- 
ness and  the  cheerfulness  of  the  room,  but  by  select- 
ing exactly  those  details  most  suggestive  of  exquisite 
neatness,  freshness,  and  tone  —  the  dancing  firelight, 
the  clear  flame  of  the  lamp,  the  polished  metal,  the 
whitewashed  walls,  the  glass  goblets,  the  scarlet 
carnations,  the  ring  of  foam,  the  flavor  of  the  white 
wine,  the  youthful  voice.  He  has  contrived  to  make 
his  reader  feel,  as  well  as  understand,  that  the  atmos- 
phere of  the  room  was  bracing. 

Sometimes  the  writer  gives  the  details  with  slight 
exaggeration  or  with  noticeable  insistence,  in  order 
to  make  his  expository  purpose  unmistakably  evident. 
Again  he  may  not  leave  the  details  presented  to 


124  THE  FUNCTIONS  OF  EXPOSITION 

speak  for  themselves ;  he  forces  you  to  get  his  idea 
of  the  subject,  not  only  through  its  sensible  attributes, 
but  through  those  attributes  and  such  interpretative 
comment  as  will  give  the  precise  suggestion  he 
wishes  them  to  have.  This  is  true  of  Dickens's 
description  of  Mr.  Gradgrind  in  Hard  Times :  — 

"The  scene  was  a  plain,  bare,  monotonous  vault  of  a 
schoolroom,  and  the  speaker's  square  forefinger  emphasized 
his  observations  by  underscoring  every  sentence  with  a  line 
on  the  schoolmaster's  sleeve.  The  emphasis  was  helped  by 
the  speaker's  square  wall  of  a  forehead,  which  had  his  eye- 
brows for  its  base,  while  his  eyes  found  commodious  cel- 
larage in  two  dark  caves,  overshadowed  by  the  wall.  The 
emphasis  was  helped  by  the  speaker's  mouth,  which  was 
wide,  thin,  and  hard-set.  The  emphasis  was  helped  by  the 
speaker's  voice,  which  was  inflexible,  dry,  and  dictatorial. 
The  emphasis  was  helped  by  the  speaker's  hair,  which 
bristled  on  the  skirts  of  his  bald  head,  a  plantation  of  firs  to 
keep  the  wind  from  its  shining  surface,  all  covered  with 
knobs,  like  the  crust  of  a  plum  pie,  as  if  the  head  had 
scarcely  warehouse-room  for  the  hard  facts  stored  inside. 
The  speaker's  obstinate  carriage,  square  coat,  square  legs, 
square  shoulders,  —  nay,  his  very  neckcloth,  trained  to  take 
him  by  the  throat  with  an  unaccommodating  grasp,  like  a 
stubborn  fact,  as  it  was,  —  all  helped  the  emphasis." 

The  details  given  here  do  not  necessarily  imply 
what  Dickens  by  his  comments  makes  them  signify : 
a  broad  brow  is  here  made  to  suggest  a  wall  —  the 
same  feature  prompted  Lowell  to  call  Emerson  "  our 
broad-browed  poet " ;  deep-set  eyes  must  be  tortured 


INTERPRETATIVE  PRESENTATION  125 

into  a  contribution  to  the  hard-fact  idea  the  whole 
picture  is  intended  to  convey.  This  piece  of  work 
corresponds  to  caricature  in  painting  —  it  distorts  the 
fact  the  more  effectively  to  convey  the  impression. 
The  same  method  may  be  applied  to  a  building,  a 
landscape,  a  city,  what  not?  A  few  pages  beyond 
the  description  quoted  above  from  Hard  Times 
Dickens  applies  this  method  to  a  more  complex  subject 
and  gives  a  description  of  a  town  similar  in  character 
to  his  caricature  of  Mr.  Gradgrind.  His  object  here 
is  to  give  an  impression  of  sordid  monotony,  but  such 
direct  interpretation  as  he  employs  has  reference,  not 
to  the  whole  town,  but  to  the  special  features  of  it 
that  he  includes  in  his  presentation  :  — 

"  It  was  a  town  of  red  brick,  or  of  brick  that  would  have 
been  red  if  the  smoke  and  ashes  had  allowed  it;  but  as 
matters  stood,  it  was  a  town  of  unnatural  red  and  black  like 
the  painted  face  of  a  savage.  It  was  a  town  of  machinery 
and  tall  chimneys,  out  of  which  interminable  serpents  of 
smoke  trailed  themselves  forever  and  ever,  and  never  got 
uncoiled.  It  had  a  black  canal  in  it,  and  a  river  that  ran 
purple  with  ill-smelling  dye,  and  vast  piles  of  buildings  full  of 
windows,  where  there  was  a  rattling  and  a  trembling  all  day 
long,  and  where  the  piston  of  the  steam  engine  worked 
monotonously  up  and  down,  like  the  head  of  an  elephant  in 
a  state  of  melancholy  madness.  It  contained  several  large 
streets  all  very  like  one  another,  and  many  small  streets  still 
more  like  one  another,  inhabited  by  people  equally  like  one 
another,  who  all  went  in  and  out  at  the  same  hours,  with  the 
same  sound  upon  the  same  pavements,  to  do  the  same  work, 


126  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF  EXPOSITION 

and  to  whom  every  day  was  the  same  as  yesterday  and  to-mor- 
row, and  every  year  the  counterpart  of  the  last  year  and  the 
next." 

The  following  sketch  is  interpretative  presentation 
applied  to  a  process  :  — 

"  Let  me  describe  to  you,  very  briefly,  a  newspaper  day. 
Figure  first,  then,  a  hastily  erected  and  still  more  hastily  de- 
signed building  in  a  dirty,  paper-littered  back  street  of  old 
London,  and  a  number  of  shabbily  dressed  men  coming  and 
going  in  this  with  projectile  swiftness,  and  within  this  factory 
companies  of  printers,  tensely  active  with  nimble  fingers  — 
they  were  always  speeding  up  the  printers  —  ply  their  type- 
setting machines,  and  cast  and  arrange  masses  of  metal  in 
a  sort  of  kitchen  inferno,  above  which,  in  a  beehive  of  little 
brightly  lit  rooms,  disheveled  men  sit  and  scribble.  There 
is  a  throbbing  of  telephones  and  a  clicking  of  telegraph 
needles,  a  rushing  of  messengers,  a  running  to  and  fro  of 
heated  men,  clutching  proofs  and  copy.  Then  begins  a  clat- 
ter and  roar  of  machinery  catching  the  infection,  going 
faster  and  faster  and  whizzing  and  banging,  —  engineers,  who 
have  never  had  time  to  wash  since  their  birth,  flying  about 
with  oil  cans,  while  paper  runs  off  its  rolls  with  a  shudder  of 
haste.  The  proprietor  you  must  suppose  arriving  explo- 
sively on  a  swift  motor-car,  leaping  out  before  the  thing  is 
at  a  standstill,  with  letters  and  documents  clutched  in  his 
hand,  rushing  in,  resolute  to  '  hustle/  getting  wonderfully 
in  everybody's  way.  At  the  sight  of  him,  even  the  messen- 
ger boys  who  are  waiting,  get  up  and  scamper  to  and  fro. 
Sprinkle  your  vision  with  collisions,  curses,  incoherencies. 
You  imagine  all  the  parts  of  this  complex  lunatic  machine 
working  hysterically  toward  a  crescendo  of  haste  and  excite- 


INTERPRETATIVE  PRESENTATION  127 

ment  as  the  night  wears  on.  At  last  the  only  things  that 
seem  to  travel  slowly  in  all  those  tearing,  vibrating  prem- 
ises are  the  hands  of  the  clock. 

"  Slowly  things  draw  on  toward  publication,  the  consumma- 
tion of  all  those  stresses.  Then  in  the  small  hours,  into  the 
now  dark  and  deserted  streets  comes  a  wild  whirl  of  carts 
and  men,  the  place  spurts  paper  at  every  door,  bales,  heaps, 
torrents  of  papers,  that  are  snatched  and  flung  about  in 
what  looks  like  a  free  fight,  and  off  with  a  rush  and  clatter 
east,  west,  north,  and  south.  The  interest  passes  outwardly; 
the  men  from  the  little  rooms  are  going  homeward,  the 
printers  disperse  yawning,  the  roaring  presses  slacken.  The 
paper  exists.  Distribution  follows  manufacture,  and  we  fol- 
low the  bundles.  Our  vision  becomes  a  vision  of  dispersal. 
You  see  those  bundles  hurling  into  stations,  catching  trains 
by  a  hair's  breadth,  speeding  on  their  way,  breaking  up, 
smaller  bundles  of  them  hurled  with  a  fierce  accuracy  out 
upon  the  platforms  that  rush  by,  and  then  everywhere  a 
division  of  these  smaller  bundles  into  still  smaller  bundles, 
into  dispersing  parcels,  into  separate  papers,  and  the  dawn 
happens  unnoticed  amidst  a  great  running  and  shouting  of 
boys,  a  shoving  through  letter  slots,  openings  of  windows, 
spreading  out  upon  book-stalls.  For  the  space  of  a  few 
hours  you  must  figure  the  whole  country  dotted  white  with 
rustling  papers  —  placards  everywhere  vociferating  the  hur- 
ried lie  for  the  day ;  men  and  women  in  trains,  men  and 
women  eating  and  reading,  men  by  study-fenders,  people 
sitting  up  in  bed,  mothers  and  sons  and  daughters  waiting 
for  father  to  finish  —  a  million  scattered  people  reading  — 
reading  headlong  —  or  feverishly  ready  to  read.  It  is  just 
as  if  some  vehement  jet  had  sprayed  that  white  foam  of 
papers  over  the  surface  of  the  land.  .  .  . 


128  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF   EXPOSITION 

"And  then  you  know,  wonderfully  gone  —  gone  utterly, 
vanished  as  foam  might  vanish  upon  the  sand." 

—  H.  G.  WELLS  :  In  the  Days  of  the  Comet. 
By  permission  of  The  Century  Company. 

Narration  used  for  the  purpose  of  interpretation  is 
perhaps  the  most  common  form  of  interpretative  pres- 
entation. That  "  Truth  embodied  in  a  tale  will  enter 
in  at  lowly  doors  "  seems  to  have  been  very  generally 
realized.  The  parables  in  the  Bible  are  of  this  char- 
acter. Fables  come  under  this  category.  Mrs.  Stowe, 
wishing  to  write  of  the  wrongs  of  negro  slavery,  and 
Mr.  Sinclair,  wishing  to  bring  before  the  public  the 
wrongs  of  the  modern  labor  system,  did  not  write 
treatises  to  accomplish  their  purpose ;  they  selected 
typical  wrongs  and  put  them  together  in  story  form 
as  coming  within  the  experience  of  an  individual. 
Black  Beauty  is  exposition  of  the  same  sort,  showing 
the  prevailing  cruelty  to  animals  in  general  by  making 
one  animal  suffer  the  most  objectionable  forms  of 
neglect  and  cruelty.  A  college  girl,  after  studying 
up  the  George  Junior  Republic  with  the  view  of  writ- 
ing a  formal  exposition  on  that  subject,  chose  instead 
the  indirect  method.  She  presented  a  fictitious  char- 
acter, a  boy  to  whom  she  gave  the  part  and  the 
character  of  the  typical  citizen  of  the  Junior  Republic 
and  carried  him  through  his  entrance  to  the  Republic, 
his  rebellion,  his  being  won  to  confidence  in  the  leader, 
his  going  to  work,  his  industrial  progress,  his  offenses, 


INTERPRETATIVE   PRESENTATION  129 

his  punishment,  education,  election  to  important 
offices,  and  so  on,  till  she  had  shown  vividly  through 
his  experience  the  spirit  and  the  working  of  the  insti- 
tution. Jane  Andrews' s  Seven  Little  Sisters  and  Ten 
Boys,  and  Ernest  Thompson  Seton's  animal  stories 
are  of  this  class.  These  and  the  innumerable 
"biographies"  of  rain  drops,  grains  of  sand,  pins, 
etc.,  show  how  the  method  of  concrete  criticism  may 
be  made  to  serve  unimpassioned  didactic  ends. 

This  type  of  writing  has  its  value,  but  usually  has 
faults.  It  is  apt  to  be  overcrowded.  In  order  to  be 
comprehensive,  a  piling  up  of  experience  in  a  single 
history  is  resorted  to  that  gives  a  false  idea  of  life  or 
irritates  the  reader  with  a  sense  that  the  author  is  not 
presenting  the  material  as  it  is  or  would  be,  but  is 
manipulating  it  to  produce  an  effect.  In  the  Atlantic 
Monthly  for  August,  1906,  there  is  an  article  which 
purports  to  be  virtually  a  transcript  of  a  sermon  de- 
livered by  a  colored  preacher.  The  reader  is  left  to 
draw  his  own  inferences  about  it.  Any  sense  that 
this  sermon  was  not  genuine,  that  it  was  a  cleverly 
invented  typical  sermon,  or  that  there  had  been  im- 
portant omissions  or  changes  for  the  purpose  of 
bringing  the  reader  to  the  writer's  conclusions,  would 
entirely  destroy  the  effect  of  the  article.  To  be 
strong,  concrete  criticism  must  be  convincing ;  it  must 
have  the  air  of  fact  presented  by  an  impartial  observer. 

While  the  student  should  be  able  to  distinguish 

EXPOSITION  —  9 


130  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF  EXPOSITION 

between  the  various  methods  of  exposition,  he  should 
not  have  the  idea  that  they  should  in  practice  be  kept 
distinct.  The  various  methods  are,  in  fact,  most  effec- 
tively used  in  conjunction.  Presentation  for  the  sake 
of  interpretation  may  be  used  together  with  presenta- 
tion for  the  sake  of  graphic  impression.  Take,  for 
example,  Mr.  Upton  Sinclair's  description  of  the 
heroine  of  The  Jungle:  — 

"  She  stood  in  the  doorway  shepherded  by  cousin  Marija, 
breathless  from  pushing  through  the  crowd,  and  in  her  hap- 
piness painful  to  look  upon.  There  was  a  light  of  wonder 
in  her  eyes  and  her  lids  trembled,  and  her  otherwise  wan 
little  face  was  flushed.  She  wore  a  muslin  dress,  con- 
spicuously white,  and  a  stiff  little  veil  coming  to  her  shoul- 
ders. There  were  five  pink  paper  roses  twisted  in  the  veil, 
and  eleven  bright  green  rose  leaves.  There  were  white 
cotton  gloves  upon  her  hands,  and  as  she  stood  staring  about 
her  she  twisted  them  together  feverishly." 
Copyright  1905,  1906,  by  Upton  Sinclair. 

There  is  much  pathos  in  the  "  five  pink  paper  roses  " 
and  "  eleven  bright  green  rose  leaves."  Those  simple 
numerals  do  more  to  make  the  reader  feel  the  pre- 
ciousness  and  costliness  of  this  bridal  array  to  the 
little  immigrant  than  would  a  paragraph  of  direct 
explanation. 

And  just  as  presentation  may  aid  or  take  the  place 
of  interpretation,  interpretation  seems  at  times  not 
only  to  help  out  presentation  by  its  appeal  to  the  un- 
derstanding, but  to  give  a  sense  impression.  It  is  no 


INTERPRETATIVE   PRESENTATION  131 

detail  of  line  or  color  that  makes  Carinthia,  the  hero- 
ine of  George  Meredith's  Amazing  Marriage,  visible 
to  the  mind's  eye,  but  rather  those  comments  and 
comparisons  she  suggested  to  the  young  naturalist : 
"a  panting  look"  —  "a  look  of  beaten  flame:  a 
look  of  one  who  has  run  and  at  last  beholds!" — 
"  From  minute  to  minute  she  is  the  rock  that  loses  the 
sun  at  night  and  reddens  in  the  morning." —  "  A  beau- 
tiful Gorgon  —  a  haggard  Venus."  When,  in  her 
story  Flittermouse,  Amelie  Rives  likens  the  cry  of  a 
horse  to  "  the  scent  of  blood  turned  to  sound," 
we  do  not  ask  to  know  pitch  or  gamut,  or  to  what  in 
the  realm  of  sound  that  cry  was  like. 

EXERCISES 

i.  In  what  respect  are  (a)  and  (b)  alike  ?  How  do 
they  differ  ? 

(a)  "  The  personal  influence  he  exerted  on  the  boys  who 
lived  in  his  House  was  quite  as  remarkable  as  his  '  form- 
teaching.'  Stoicism  and  honor  were  the  qualities  it  was 
mainly  directed  to  form.  Every  boy  was  expected  to  show 
manliness  and  endurance,  and  to  utter  no  complaint.  Where 
physical  health  was  concerned,  he  was  indulgent ;  his  House 
was  the  first  which  gave  the  boys  meat  at  breakfast  in  addi- 
tion to  tea  with  bread  and  butter.  But  otherwise  the  dis- 
cipline was  Spartan,  though  not  more  Spartan  than  he 
prescribed  to  himself,  and  the  House  was  trained  to  scorn 
the  slightest  approach  to  luxury.  Armchairs  were  forbidden 
except  to  sixth  form  boys.  A  pupil  relates  that  when  Bowen 


132  THE  FUNCTIONS   OF  EXPOSITION 

found  he  was  in  the  habit  of  taking  two  hot  baths  a  week, 
the  transgression  was  reproved  with  the  words  :  '  Oh,  boy, 
that's  like  the  later  Romans,  boy.'  His  maxims  were : 
'Take  sweet  and  bitter  as  sweet  and  bitter  come,'  and 
'  always  play  the  game.'  He  never  preached  to  the  boys  or 
lectured  them ;  and  if  he  had  to  convey  a  reproof,  conveyed 
it  in  a  single  sentence.  But  he  dwelt  upon  honor  as  the 
foundation  of  character,  and  made  every  boy  feel  that  he 
was  expected  to  reach  the  highest  standard  of  truthfulness, 
courage,  and  duty  to  the  little  community  of  the  House,  or  the 
cricket  eleven,  or  the  football  team.  .  .  .  Bowen  attached 
the  utmost  value  to  games  as  a  training  in  character.  He 
used  to  descant  upon  the  qualities  of  discipline,  good-fellow- 
ship, good-humor,  mutual  help,  and  postponement  of 
self,  which  they  are  calculated  to  foster.  Though  some  of 
his  friends  thought  that  his  own  intense  and  unabated  fond- 
ness for  these  games  —  for  he  played  cricket  and  football 
up  to  the  end  of  his  life  —  might  have  biased  his  judgment, 
they  could  not  deny  that  the  games  ought  to  develop  the 
qualities  aforesaid." 

—  JAMES  BRYCE  :   "  Edward  Bowen."       Studies  in  Contem- 
porary Biography. 

By  permission  of  The  Macmillan  Company. 

(b)  "Mr.  Eglett  hereupon  threw  the  door  open,  and 
ushered  in  Master  Leo. 

"  Lady  Charlotte  noticed  that  the  tutor  shook  the  boy's 
hand  offhandedly,  with  not  a  whit  of  the  usual  obtrusive 
geniality,  and  merely  dropped  him  a  word.  Soon  after,  he 
was  talking  to  Mr.  Eglett  of  games  at  home  and  games 
abroad.  .  .  .  The  tutor  praised  fencing  as  an  exercise  and 
an  accomplishment.  He  had  large  reserves  of  eulogy  for 
boxing.  He  knew  the  qualities  of  the  famous  bruisers  of  the 


INTERPRETATIVE  PRESENTATION  133 

time,  cited  fisty  names  whose  owners  were  then  to  be  seen 
all  over  an  admiring  land  in  prints,  in  the  glorious  defensive- 
offensive  attitude,  England's  own  —  Touch  me,  if  you 
dare  !  .  .  . 

"The  young  tutor  had  lighted  on  a  pet  theme  of  Mr. 
Eglett's —  the  excellent  virtues  of  the  practice  of  pugilism 
in  old  England,  and  the  school  of  honor  that  it  is  to  our 
lower  population.  '  Fifty  times  better  for  them  than  cock- 
fighting/  he  exclaimed,  admitting  that  he  could  be  an  inter- 
ested spectator  at  a  ring  or  the  pit :  cock-fighting  or  ratting. 

" '  Ratting  seems  to  have  more  excuse/  the  tutor  said,  and 
made  no  sign  of  a  liking  for  either  of  these  popular  pastimes. 
As  he  disapproved  without  squeamishness,  the  impulsive  but 
sharply  critical  woman  close  by  nodded ;  and  she  gave  him 
his  due  for  being  no  courtier. 

"  Leo  had  to  be  off  to  bed.  The  tutor  spared  him  any 
struggle  over  the  shaking  of  hands,  and  saying, '  Good  night, 
Leo/  continued  the  conversation.  The  boy  went  away  visibly 
relieved  of  the  cramp  that  seizes  on  a  youngster  at  the  for- 
malities pertaining  to  these  chilly  and  fateful  introductions. 

" '  What  do  you  think  of  the  look  of  him  ? '  Mr.  Eglett  asked. 

"  The  tutor  had  not  appeared  to  inspect  the  boy.  '  Big 
head/  he  remarked.  'Yes,  Leo  won't  want  pushing  at 
books  when  he's  once  in  harness.  He  will  have  six  weeks 
of  me.  It's  more  than  the  yeomanry  get  for  drill  per 
annum,  and  they're  expected  to  know  something  of  a  sol- 
dier's duties.  There's  a  chance  of  putting  him  on  the  right 
road  in  certain  matters.  We'll  walk,  or  ride,  or  skate,  if  the 
frost  holds  to-morrow  :  no  lessons  the  first  day.7 

" '  Do  as  you  think  fit/  said  Lady  Charlotte." 

—  GEORGE  MEREDITH  :  Lord  Ormont  and  his  Aminta. 
By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 


134  THE   FUNCTIONS   OF  EXPOSITION 

2.  Give  in  abstract  terms   the  idea  conveyed  by 
the  following  presentation  :  — 

An  Ugly  Duckling :  — 

"  She  is  not  a  pretty  morsel  of  girlish  insipidity,  but  a 
palpably  ugly  piece  of  young  womanhood,  bounded  by  long 
unyielding  parallels  that  break  in  sharp  little  angles  to  form 
a  pair  of  narrow  shoulders,  and  from  the  base  of  the  neck 
spring  rigidly  upward  again  to  outline  a  throat  and  head  of 
prodigious  length  and  spareness.  Her  skin  is  too  brown; 
her  hair  is  impossibly  dark  and  heavy;  her  eyes  are  too 
big  and  black,  her  nose  and  ears  challenge  attention.  When 
she  cuts  her  meat,  she  seems  all  elbows ;  when  she  walks, 
her  big  feet  prevail ;  when  she  talks,  her  great  deep  voi'ce 
clangs  discords.  She  is  by  turns  everything  too  much,  yet 
she  makes  me  see  visions  sometimes." 

3.  Does  the  picture  gain  from  the  comment  ? 

"  Four  ducks  on  a  pond, 
A  grass-bank  beyond, 
A  blue  sky  of  spring, 
White  clouds  on  the  wing ; 
What  a  little  thing 
To  remember  for  years  — 
To  remember  with  tears  !  " 

—  WILLIAM  ALLINGHAM. 

4.  Read  the  first  of  the  following  paragraphs,  and 
write   in   abstract   terms  what   you   think   Lafcadio 
Hearn  felt  about  the  city  he  described.     Then  read 
the  second  paragraph  and  see  whether  you  received 
the  impression  he  sought  to  convey :  — 

"  As  I  muse,  the  remembrance  of  a  great  city  comes  back 


INTERPRETATIVE   PRESENTATION  135 

to  me,  a  city  walled  up  to  the  sky  and  roaring  like  the  sea. 
The  memory  of  that  roar  returns  first ;  then  the  vision  de- 
fines :  a  chasm,  which  is  a  street,  between  mountains,  which 
are  houses.  I  am  tired,  because  I  have  walked  many  miles 
between  those  precipices  of  masonry,  and  have  trodden  no 
earth,  —  only  slabs  of  rock,  —  and  have  heard  nothing  but 
thunder  of  tumult.  Deep  below  those  huge  pavements,  I 
know  there  is  a  cavernous  world  tremendous;  systems 
underlying  systems  of  ways  contrived  for  water  and  steam 
and  fire.  On  either  hand  tower  facades  pierced  by  scores 
of  tiers  of  windows,  —  cliffs  of  architecture  shutting  out  the 
sun.  Above,  the  pale  blue  streak  of  sky  is  cut  by  a  maze 
of  spidery  lines,  —  an  infinite  cobweb  of  electric  wires.  In 
that  block  on  the  right  there  dwell  nine  thousand  souls ;  the 
tenants  of  the  edifice  facing  it  pay  the  annual  rent  of  a 
million  dollars.  Seven  millions  scarcely  covered  the  cost  of 
those  bulks  overshadowing  the  square  beyond,  —  and  there 
are  miles  of  such.  Stairways  of  steel  and  cement,  of  brass 
and  stone,  with  costliest  balustrades,  ascend  through  decades 
and  double  decades  of  stories  ;  but  no  foot  treads  them.  By 
water  power,  by  steam,  by  electricity,  men  go  up  and  down ; 
the  heights  are  too  dizzy,  the  distances  too  great,  for  the  use 
of  the  limbs.  My  friend,  who  pays  rent  of  $5000  for  his 
rooms  in  the  fourteenth  story  of  a  monstrosity  not  far  off, 
has  never  trodden  his  stairway.  I  am  walking  for  curiosity 
alone;  with  a  serious  purpose  I  should  not  walk,  —  the 
spaces  are  too  broad,  the  time  is  too  precious,  for  such  slow 
exertion,  —  men  travel  from  district  to  district,  from  house 
to  office,  by  steam.  Heights  are  too  great  for  the  voice  to 
traverse ;  orders  are  given  and  obeyed  by  machinery.  By 
electricity  far-away  doors  are  opened;  with  one  touch  a 
hundred  rooms  are  lighted  or  heated. 


136  THE  FUNCTIONS   OF  EXPOSITION 

"And  all  this  enormity  is  hard,  grim,  dumb;  it  is  the 
enormity  of  mathematical  power  applied  to  utilitarian  ends 
of  solidity  and  durability.  These  leagues  of  palaces,  of 
warehouses,  of  business  structures,  of  buildings  describable 
and  indescribable  are  not  beautiful,  but  sinister.  One  feels 
depressed  by  the  mere  sensation  of  the  enormous  life  which 
created  them,  life  without  sympathy;  of  their  prodigious 
manifestation  of  power,  power  without  pity.  They  are  the 
architectural  utterance  of  the  new  industrial  age.  And  there 
is  no  halt  in  the  thunder  of  wheels,  in  the  storming  of  hoofs 
and  of  human  feet.  To  ask  a  question,  one  must  shout 
into  the  ear  of  the  questioned ;  to  see,  to  understand,  to 
move  in  that  high-pressure  medium,  needs  experience. 
The  unaccustomed  feels  the  sensation  of  being  in  a  panic, 
in  a  tempest,  in  a  cyclone.  Yet  all  this  is  order." 
—  LAFCADIO  HEARN  :  The  Genius  of  Japanese  Civilization. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

5.  Read  Chapter  VIII  of  Vanity  Fair,  and  write  a 
characterization   of   the   Crawley  household   as   you 
understand    it    from    Becky    Sharp's    presentation. 
Write  also  a  characterization  of  Becky  Sharp  as  she 
is  revealed  by  this  interpretative  presentation. 

6.  Write  five  brief  studies  in  interpretative  presen- 
tation. 


A    SPECIAL  APPLICATION    OF    EX- 
POSITION—LITERARY  CRITICISM 


LITERARY   CRITICISM 
GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS 

CRITICISM  of  stories,  essays,  poems,  is  not  essen- 
tially different  from  criticism  of  pictures,  places,  char- 
acters, events,  and  so  on.  In  this  field  we  are  still 
engaged  in  presentation  and  interpretation.  But  since 
literary  criticism  is  a  branch  of  exposition  in  which 
students  of  composition  are,  as  a  rule,  particularly 
interested,  and  by  which  they  may  be  particularly 
benefited,  it  is  well  to  give  it  special  consideration. 

The  first  question  to  be  disposed  of  is,  What  sort 
of  book  should  an  inexperienced  critic  attempt  to 
review?  Matthew  Arnold  defines  the  function  of 
criticism  in  general  to  be  "  a  disinterested  endeavor 
to  learn  and  propagate  the  best  that  is  known  and 
thought  in  the  world."  The  last  part  of  this  defini- 
tion applied  here  might  seem  to  limit  the  choice  of 
subjects  to  excellent  books  little  known  or  little 
appreciated.  We  are,  however,  at  this  stage  of  our 
work  more  concerned  with  learning  than  with  propa- 
gating wisdom.  Since  this  is  so,  and  since,  in  the 
highest  sense,  even  the  second  purpose  of  criticism 
will  be  most  truly  accomplished  by  the  criticism  that 
is  rather  a  giving  out  than  a  giving  unto,  that  com- 


140  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

municates  the  writer's  "  sense  of  fact "  about  a  book 
without  consciousness  of  the  effect  it  may  produce, 
the  chief  requirement  is,  that  the  book  should  have 
made  an  impression  on  you,  that  it  should  have 
roused  in  you  ideas  and  feelings  regarding  it.  Any 
book  that  makes  you  want  to  talk  about  it  ought  to 
be  a  promising  subject  for  a  review.  Whether  the 
book  is  well  known  or  not  matters  little;  whether 
you  like  it  or  not  is  of  secondary  importance.  It  is 
not  even  necessary  that  the  book  should  be  one  that 
you  thoroughly  understand :  you  may  write  an  ex- 
cellent review  of  a  book  over  which  you  have  com- 
plete mastery,  which  you  hold,  as  it  were,  in  the 
hollow  of  your  hand  and  can  turn  over  and  about  at 
pleasure ;  or  you  may  find  a  book  an  inspiring  sub- 
ject which  makes  you  feel  as  Heroes  and  Hero-worship 
made  the  young  hero  of  Beauckamp's  Career  feel, 
that  there  is  a  great  deal  more  in  the  book  than 
there  is  in  yourself.  If  the  book  excites  in  you  some- 
thing you  want  to  express,  you  have  the  first  essen- 
tial for  a  vital  criticism.  A  criticism  of  even  a  poor 
book,  written  with  eager  interest,  will  do  more  to 
develop  in  the  writer  the  power  to  appreciate  a  good 
book,  than  will  the  writing  of  a  criticism  of  a  book  of 
great  merit  that  has  not  interested  the  critic. 

The  second  question  to  be  considered  relates  to 
the  substance  of  criticism.  Shall  it  be  chiefly  pres- 
entation, or  interpretation,  or  shall  it  be  interpreta- 


GENERAL  REQUIREMENTS  141 

tive-presentation  ?  If  we  again  refer  to  Matthew 
Arnold's  invaluable  essay  on  The  Function  of  Criti- 
cism, we  may  obtain  help.  He  says  :  — 

"And  it  is  by  communicating  fresh  knowledge,  and  let- 
ting his  own  judgment  pass  along  with  it,  —  but  insensibly, 
and  in  the  second  place,  not  the  first,  as  a  sort  of  companion 
and  clew,  not  as  an  abstract  lawgiver,  —  that  the  critic  will 
generally  do  most  good  to  his  readers.  Sometimes,  no  doubt, 
.  .  .  criticism  may  have  to  deal  with  a  subject-matter  so  famil- 
iar that  fresh  knowledge  is  out  of  the  question,  and  then  it 
must  be  all  judgment ;  an  enunciation  and  detailed  appli- 
cation of  principles.  Here  the  great  safeguard  is  never  to 
let  one's  self  become  abstract,  always  to  retain  an  intimate 
and  lively  consciousness  of  the  truth  of  what  one  is  saying, 
and,  the  moment  this  fails  us,  to  be  sure  that  something  is 
wrong." 

This  is  wholesome  advice  from  the  point  of  view  of 
the  student-critic  as  well  as  from  that  of  the  reader. 
The  literary  criticism,  whether  thought,  spoken,  or 
written,  that  begins  and  ends  with  "  I  like "  or  "  I 
don't  like  "  or  any  loose  judgment,  can  be  nothing 
but  futile  from  any  point  of  view.  The  critic  must 
show  what  the  particular  properties  of  a  piece  of 
work  are  and  to  what  those  properties  are  due.  Pres- 
entation there  should  be,  presentation  that  is  not 
warped  and  clipped  in  such  a  way  as  to  do  injustice 
to  the  author  that  the  critic  may  make  his  point,  pres- 
entation that  is  to  the  point,  complete  but  brief  — 
take,  for  example,  the  following  passage  from  John 


142  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

Burroughs's   essay,  Arnold's    View  of  Emerson  and 
Carlyle :  — 

"  The  gist  of  the  speaker's  view  of  Emerson  was  briefly 
as  follows :  Emerson  was  not  a  great  poet,  was  not  to  be 
ranked  among  the  legitimate  poets,  because  his  poetry  had 
not  the  Mil  tonic  requirements  of  simplicity,  sensuousness,  and 
passion.  He  was  not  even  a  great  man  of  letters,  because 
he  had  not  a  genius  and  instinct  for  style ;  his  style  had  not 
the  requisite  wholeness  of  good  tissue.  Who  were  the  great 
men  of  letters  ?  They  were  Plato,  Cicero,  Voltaire,  La 
Bruyere,  Milton,  Addison,  Swift,  —  men  whose  prose  is  by  a 
kind  of  native  necessity  true  and  sound.  Emerson  was  not 
a  great  philosopher,  because  he  had  no  constructive  talent, 
—  he  could  not  build  a  system  of  philosophy.  What  then 
was  his  merit  ?  He  was  to  be  classed  with  Marcus  Aurelius, 
who  was  '  the  friend  and  aider  of  those  who  would  live  in 
the  spirit/  This  was  Emerson's  chief  merit  and  service : 
he  was  the  friend  and  aider  of  those  who  would  live  in  the 
spirit ;  the  secret  of  his  influence  was  not  in  his  thought  —  it 
was  in  his  temper,  his  unfaltering  spirit  of  cheerfulness  and 
hope. 

"In  the  opinion  of  the  speaker,  even  Carlyle  was  not  a 
great  writer,  and  his  work  was  of  much  less  importance  than 
Emerson's.  As  Wordsworth's  poetry  was  the  most  important 
work  done  in  verse  in  our  language  during  the  nineteenth 
century,  so  Emerson's  essays  were,  in  the  lecturer's  view,  the 
most  important  work  done  in  prose.  Carlyle  was  not  a 
great  writer,  because  he  was  too  impatient,  too  willful,  too 
vehement ;  he  did  not  work  his  material  up  into  good  liter- 
ary form." 

By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

The  first  paragraph  furnishes  a  good  example  of 


GENERAL  REQUIREMENTS  143 

presentation.  It  states  briefly  and  fairly  Arnold's 
opinion  of  Emerson  as  expressed  in  his  essay,  Emer- 
son. The  second,  either  through  haste  and  negligence 
or  prejudice,  is  unfair.  It  does  not  present  Arnold's 
chief  charge  against  Carlyle. 

If  the  critic  takes  a  fair  view  of  his  author,  pres- 
entation that  will  influence  the  reader  to  reach  the 
same  conclusions  that  he  has  formed  will  necessitate 
no  misrepresentation. 

I  find  that  the  inexperienced  critic  works  to  the 
best  advantage  when  he  makes  his  judgment  lead  in 
building  up  the  outline  for  a  criticism  —  when  he 
chooses  his  book  for  criticism  because  he  has  some 
opinion  regarding  it,  and  then  chooses  what  he  will 
present  from  the  book  with  the  view  of  showing  the 
reasonableness  of  that  opinion.  His  effort  must  be 
to  make  a  fair  judgment  and  to  justify  it  by  presenta- 
tion. When  he  comes  to  the  development  of  the 
outline  into  a  finished  criticism,  he  may,  if  he  sees  fit, 
follow  the  method  advocated  by  Arnold,  giving  the 
prominent  place  to  his  presentation  and  letting  his 
comment  seem  to  be  a  secondary  matter. 

This,  however,  is  not  necessary ;  good,  explicit, 
judicial  criticism  is  helpful  and  interesting  and  often 
indispensable,  and  the  critic  often  gains  clearness  of 
meaning  as  well  as  firmness  of  structure  by  stating 
his  opinion.  I  quote  again  from  Burroughs's  Indoor 
Studies,  this  time  from  his  Henry  D.  Thoreau :  — 


144  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

"Thoreau  had  humor,  but  it  had  worked  a  little  —  it  was 
not  quite  sweet;  a  vinous  fermentation  had  taken  place 
more  or  less  in  it.  There  was  too  much  acid  for  the  sugar. 
It  shows  itself  especially  when  he  speaks  of  men.  How  he 
disliked  the  average  social  and  business  man,  and  said  his 
only  resource  was  to  get  away  from  them  !  He  was  surprised 
to  find  what  vulgar  fellows  they  were.  'They  do  a  little 
business  commonly  each  day,  in  order  to  pay  their  board, 
and  then  congregate  in  sitting  rooms,  and  feebly  fabulate 
and  paddle  in  the  social  slush ;  and  when  I  think  they 
have  sufficiently  relaxed,  and  am  prepared  to  see  them  steal 
away  to  their  shrines,  they  go  unashamed  to  their  beds,  and 
take  on  a  new  layer  of  sloth.'  Methinks  there  is  a  drop  of 
aquafortis  in  this  liquor.  Generally,  however,  there  is  only 
a  pleasant  acid  or  subacid  flavor  to  his  humor,  as  when  he 
refers  to  a  certain  minister  who  spoke  of  God  as  if  he  enjoyed 
a  monopoly  of  the  subject ;  or  when  he  says  of  the  good 
church-people  that  '  they  show  the  whites  of  their  eyes  on 
the  Sabbath,  and  the  blacks  all  the  rest  of  the  week/  He 
says  the  greatest  bores  who  visited  him  in  his  hut  by  Walden 
Pond  were  the  self-styled  reformers,  who  thought  that  he 
was  forever  singing,  — 

" 'This  is  the  house  that  I  built; 
That  is  the  man  that  lives  in  the  house  that  I  built.' 

"But  they  did  not  know  that  the  third  line  was, — 

"  *  These  are  the  folks  that  worry  the  man 

That  lives  in  the  house  that  I  built.'  " 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

Notice  the  generalizations  and  notice,  too,  how 
they  give  both  wholeness  and  force  to  the  paragraph. 
Without  them  we  should  have  mere  fragments,  dis- 
jointed scraps.  Then,  cull  the  generalizations,  put 


GENERAL  REQUIREMENTS  145 

them  together  without  the  specific  instances  cited  and 
quoted,  and  note  the  loss  in  force  and  interest.  Both 
are  important,  both  are  necessary,  throughout  a 
review. 

From  the  last  citation  the  student  will  have  noted 
that  presentation  is  possible  and  desirable  in  discussing 
not  only  content,  but  style.  It  is  not  enough  for  the 
student  to  characterize  a  writer's  style  in  some  general 
terms  as  humorous,  forcible,  elegant.  We  must 
show  by  presentation  that  our  statements  are  just. 
Further,  we  must  seek  to  make  more  exact  judgments, 
generalizations  that  will  fit  the  case  more  closely. 
We  must  modify  and  qualify  till  we  have  expressed 
or  implied  the  precise  quality  that  distinguishes  the 
author  for  us.  We  must  keep  in  mind  Arnold's 
caution,  "never  to  let  one's  self  become  abstract, 
always  to  retain  an  intimate  and  lively  consciousness 
of  the  truth  of  what  one  is  saying." 

When  this  is  done,  judgment  unaided  by  presen- 
tation is  valuable  and  interesting.  Consider  the  fol- 
lowing bits  of  criticism  :  — 

"  .  .  .  with  Flaubert,  the  search,  the  unwearied  research, 
was  not  for  the  smooth,  or  winsome,  or  forcible  word,  as 
such,  as  with  false  Ciceronians,  but  quite  simply  and 
honestly,  for  the  word's  adjustment  to  its  meaning." 

—  WALTER  PATER  :  Style. 

"  Unoccupied,  as   he    [Lamb]    might   seem,  with  great 
matters,  he  is  in  immediate  contact  with  what  is  real,  espe- 
EXPOSITION  — 10 


146  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

dally  in  its  caressing  littleness,  that  littleness  in  which  there 
is  much  of  the  whole  woeful  heart  of  things,  and  meets  it 
more  than  halfway  with  a  perfect  understanding  of  it. 
What  sudden,  unexpected  touches  of  pathos  in  him  ! — bear- 
ing witness  how  the  sorrow  of  humanity,  the  Welts chmerz, 
the  constant  aching  of  its  wounds  is  ever  present  with  him : 
but  with  a  gift  also  for  the  enjoyment  of  life  in  its  subtleties, 
of  enjoyment  actually  refined  by  the  need  of  some  thought- 
ful economies  and  making  the  most  of  things." 

—  WALTER  PATER  :   Charles  Lamb. 

In  such  passages  as  these  the  critic  seems,  in  the 
literal  sense  of  the  word,  to  discover  the  character- 
istics of  the  writer. 

Mr.  Edmund  Gosse  wrote  of  Ibsen's  plays  :  — 

"  Each  of  his  plays  presupposed  a  long  history  behind  it ; 
each  started,  like  an  ancient  Greek  tragedy,  in  the  full 
process  of  catastrophe." 

Mr.  W.  M.  Daniels,  in  reviewing  Mr.  Robert  Hunt- 
er's Poverty,  wrote :  — 

"  Worse  than  all  else,  for  those  who  value  crystal- clear 
sincerity  of  thought  and  utterance,  is  the  recurrence  of  the 
more  than  occasional  note  of  pseudo-pathos  and  literary 
falsetto.  Self-revelation  by  carefully  motived  indirection, 
and  melodramatically  repressed  heartbreak,  suggest  some- 
thing dangerously  near  the  poseur •." 

Such  general  statements  are  provocative,  and  stim- 
ulate the  reader  to  furnish  evidence  for  or  against 
them;  or  their  justness  is  at  once  perceived  and  the 
reader  is  gratified  to  find  his  own  ideas  confirmed 


GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS  147 

and  concisely  and  clearly  phrased.  It  is  not  true 
that  such  direct  criticism  is  necessarily  didactic  in 
purpose.  The  following  paragraph  will  be  less  en- 
joyed by  the  person  whom  it  instructs  than  by  the 
person  who  has  already  discovered  the  facts  for 
himself :  — 

"If  we  grant  that  he  is  not  master  of  the  larger  units  of 
style,  that  is,  of  construction,  we  can  assert  that  in  the  lesser 
units,  sentence  for  sentence,  he  is  a  fine  writer  of  the 
English  tongue.  There  is  a  story  that  he  learned  English 
first  from  the  Bible,  and  his  vigorous  primal  usages  of  words, 
his  racial  idioms  and  ancient  rich  metaphors  warrant  the 
idea  that  he  came  to  us  along  the  old  broad  highway  of 
English  speech  and  thought,  the  King  James  Version.  His 
sentences,  however,  are  not  biblical  as  Stevenson's  and 
Kipling's  often  are,  but  show  a  modern  sophistication  and 
intellectual  deliberateness.  .  .  .  Approaching  our  language 
as  an  adult  foreigner,  he  goes  deep  to  the  derivative  meanings 
of  words,  their  powerful  first  intentions,  which  familiarity  has 
disguised  from  most  of  us  native-born  to  English.  He  has 
achieved  that  ring  and  fluency  which  he  has  declared  should 
be  the  artist's  aim." 

—  JOHN  ALBERT  MACY  :  "  Joseph  Conrad."     The 
Atlantic  Monthly,  November,  1906. 

The  critic's  method  need  not,  however,  be  so  direct 
and  explicit.  He  may  suggest  by  figurative  language 
the  effect  of  the  writer's  work,  as  when  Hazlitt  said 
of  Burke  that  many  of  his  passages  shine  by  their  own 
light ;  as  when  De  Quincey  spoke  of  Lamb's  "  pen- 
siveness  checkered  by  gleams  of  the  fanciful,  and  the 


148  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

humor  that  is  touched  with  cross  lights  of  pathos  "  ; 
or  when  Matthew  Arnold  said  of  Byron  that  Nature 
sometimes  seemed  to  take  the  pen  from  him  and 
write  for  him. 

This  method  is  often  used  on  a  larger  scale. 
Take,  for  example,  Thoreau's  description  of  Carlyle's 
style :  — 

"  Such  a  style,  —  so  diversified  and  variegated  !  It  is  like 
the  face  of  a  country ;  it  is  like  a  New  England  landscape, 
with  farmhouses  and  villages,  and  cultivated  spots,  and 
belts  of  forests  and  blueberry-swamps  round  about,  with  the 
fragrance  of  shad  blossoms  and  violets  on  certain  winds. 
And  as  for  the  reading  of  it,  it  is  novel  enough  to  the  reader 
who  has  used  only  the  diligence,  and  old  line  mail  coach. 
It  is  like  traveling  sometimes  on  foot,  sometimes  in  a  gig 
tandem ;  sometimes  in  a  full  coach,  over  highways,  mended 
and  unmended,  for  which  you  will  prosecute  the  town ;  on 
level  roads,  through  French  departments,  by  Simplon  roads 
over  the  Alps,  and  now  and  then  he  hauls  up  for  a  relay, 
and  yokes  in  an  unbroken  colt  of  a  Pegasus  for  a  leader, 
driving  off  by  cart-paths,  and  across  lots,  by  corduroy  roads 
and  gridiron  bridges ;  and  where  the  bridges  are  gone,  not 
even  a  string-piece  left,  and  the  reader  has  to  set  his  breast 
and  swim.  You  have  got  an  expert  driver  this  time,  one 
who  has  driven  ten  thousand  miles,  and  was  never  known  to 
upset ;  can  drive  six  in  hand  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice, 
and  touch  the  leaders  anywhere  with  his  snapper." 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

We  find  another  interesting,  figurative,  characteri- 
zation of  Carlyle's  style  in  Beauchamp's  Career,  where 


GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS  149 

Meredith  gives  some  vivid  sentences  descriptive  of  the 
effect  of  Heroes  and  Hero-worship  on  one  of  the 
characters  of  his  story  :  — 

"A  wind-in-the-orchard  style,  that  tumbled  down  here 
and  there  an  appreciable  fruit  with  uncouth  bluster;  sen- 
tences without  commencements  running  to  abrupt  endings 
and  smoke,  like  waves  against  a  sea  wall,  learned  dictionary 
words  giving  a  hand  to  street  slang,  and  accents  falling  on 
them  haphazard,  like  slant  rays  from  driving  clouds  ;  all  the 
pages  in  a  breeze,  the  whole  book  producing  a  kind  of  elec- 
trical agitation  in  the  mind  and  joints." 

By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

Either  method  is  good  in  proportion  as  it  is  true. 
The  temptation  in  figurative  criticism  is  to  let  the 
figure  have  its  own  way  too  much.  We  start  with  a  fig- 
ure that  is  sufficiently  prompted  by  the  subject  under 
discussion,  but  before  we  know  it  our  figure  is  more 
important  to  us  than  the  idea  it  was  intended  to  ex- 
press. Truth  should  never  be  sacrificed  to  effectiveness. 

It  is  well  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  figurative 
criticism  by  direct  statement  of  opinion.  In  the  fol- 
lowing lines  on  Johnson,  Hazlitt  makes  perfectly 
clear  the  force  of  his  closing  comparison  :  — 

"  All  his  periods  are  cast  in  the  same  mold,  are  of  the 
same  size  and  shape,  and  consequently  have  little  fitness  to 
the  variety  of  things  he  professes  to  treat  of.  His  subjects 
are  familiar,  but  the  author  is  always  upon  stilts.  He  has 
neither  ease  nor  simplicity,  and  his  efforts  at  playfulness, 
in  part,  remind  one  of  the  lines  in  Milton  :  — 


150  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

"  *  ...  the  elephant 

To  make  them  sport  wreath'd  his  proboscis  lithe.' " 

The  point  of  Goldsmith's  famous  comment  on 
Johnson :  "  If  he  were  to  write  a  fable  of  little  fishes 
he  would  make  them  speak  like  great  whales/'  is 
perhaps  obvious  enough  to  be  grasped  without  assist- 
ance even  by  those  who  know  nothing  of  Johnson's 
style.  The  direct  statement,  where  it  is  necessary, 
should  be  given  before  the  figurative  criticism. 

Criticism  of  structure  and  diction  is  the  more 
worth  while  for  being  definite  and  confirmed  by  spe- 
cific instances.  That  an  essay  or  a  story  is  loosely 
constructed  and  contains  material  that  does  not  con- 
tribute to  the  central  idea,  etc.,  is  too  vague  a  criti- 
cism to  convince  the  doubtful  or  satisfy  the  curious. 
In  Matthew  Arnold's  review  of  Anna  Karenina  he 
presents  not  only  his  conclusions,  but  some  of  the 
facts  on  which  they  are  based :  — 

"There  are  many  characters  in  Anna  Karenina — too 
many,  if  we  look  in  it  for  a  work  of  art  in  which  the  action 
shall  be  vigorously  one,  and  to  that  one  action  everything 
shall  converge.  There  are  two  main  actions  extending 
throughout  the  book,  and  we  keep  passing  from  one  of 
them  to  the  other — from  the  affairs  of  Anna  and  Wronsky 
to  the  affairs  of  Kitty  and  Levine.  People  appear  in  con- 
nection with  these  two  main  actions  whose  appearance  and 
proceedings  do  not  in  the  least  contribute  to  develop  them ; 
incidents  are  multiplied  which  we  expect  are  to  lead  to 
something  important,  but  which  do  not.  What,  for  instance, 


GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS  151 

does  the  episode  of  Kitty's  friend,  Warinka,  and  Levine's 
brother,  Serge  Ivanitch,  their  inclination  for  one  another 
and  its  failure  to  come  to  anything,  contribute  to  the  devel- 
opment-of  either  the  character  or  the  fortunes  of  Kitty  and 
Levine?  What  does  the  incident  of  Levine's  long  delay  in 
getting  to  church  to  be  married,  a  delay  which,  as  we  read 
it,  seems  to  have  significance,  really  import?  It  turns  out 
to  import  absolutely  nothing,  and  to  be  introduced  solely 
to  give  the  author  the  pleasure  of  telling  us  that  all  Levine's 
shirts  had  been  packed  up. 

"But  the  truth  is,  we  are  not  to  take  Anna  Karenina  as  a 
work  of  art ;  we  are  to  take  it  as  a  piece  of  life.  A  piece  of 
life  it  is.  The  author  has  not  invented  and  combined  it,  he 
has  seen  it ;  it  has  all  happened  before  his  inward  eye,  and 
it  was  in  this  wise  that  it  happened.  Levine's  shirts  were 
packed  up,  and  he  was  late  for  his  wedding  in  consequence ; 
Warinka  and  Serge  Ivanitch  met  at  Levine's  country-house 
and  went  out  walking  together ;  Serge  was  very  near  pro- 
posing, but  did  not.  The  author  saw  it  all  happening  so  — 
saw  it,  and  therefore  relates  it ;  and  what  his  novel  in  this 
way  loses  in  art,  it  gains  in  reality." 

We  have  seen  that,  in  character,  criticism  should 
be  fair,  definite,  and,  as  it  were,  indigenous  to  the 
work  in  question.  We  have  now  to  consider  the 
tone  of  a  piece  of  literary  criticism.  If  we  take  for 
our  pattern  critic  the  critic  described  and  implied  by 
Walter  Pater  and  Matthew  Arnold,  we  shall  have 
one  independent  of  personal  considerations,  one  who 
will  judge  every  piece  of  work  on  its  own  merits, 
without  regard  for  the  merit  of  the  writer's  other 


152  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

work,  uninfluenced  by  the  opinions  of  other  critics  — 
one  who  will  hold  high  standards  of  excellence,  and 
will  not  be  prone  to  praise  mediocrity;  one  who  is 
discriminating,  not  given  to  sweeping  generalizations 
and  wholesale  laudation  or  condemnation,  but  one 
who  will  be  keen  and  wary,  not  inclined  to  condone  a 
fault  in  one  direction  for  a  virtue  in  another,  or  ig- 
nore an  excellence  of  one  sort  because  of  a  fault  of 
another ;  one  who  does  not  miss  a  fine  idea  because 
of  bungling  phrasing,  but  one  who  is  no  less  aware  of 
the  bungling  phrasing  because  of  the  fine  idea. 

While  the  ardent  appreciator  who  sweeps  the  ordi- 
nary reader  along  on  the  full  tide  of  his  enthusiasm 
to  the  realization  of  a  strength  and  charm  in  a  writer, 
which,  without  the  help  of  a  mediator  he  would  not 
discern,  is  the  more  popular  critic,  his  power  is 
scarcely  to  be  imparted,  and  perfervid  imitations  of 
his  style  are  objectionable.  The  more  scholarly  critic 
is  the  safest  model,  and  in  so  far  as  the  student  critic 
is  conscious  of  any  effort,  it  should  be  away  from  the 
emotional  toward  the  clear,  unimpassioned  judgment 
of  a  book. 

It  is  well  to  bear  in  mind  that  excessive  adulation 
or  blame  of  a  book  or  an  article  defeats  its  end.  If 
what  we  say  is  to  have  effect,  it  must  be  of  such  na- 
ture as  to  inspire  faith  in  our  power  to  judge.  If  we 
allow  ourselves  to  indulge  in  extravagant  forms  of 
speech,  we  shall  find  our  words  discounted.  We 


GENERAL  REQUIREMENTS  153 

know  that  though  a  jews-harp  will  please  the  inex- 
perienced boy,  it  is  a  pretty  poor  instrument  from  the 
point  of  view  of  one  who  has  heard  the  violin ;  and  if 
we  hear  a  youthful  critic  lavishing  superlatives  on  a 
book  we  are  unacquainted  with,  we  are  a  little  apt  to 
believe  that  he  is  pleased  because  he  knows  nothing 
better,  to  attribute  the  remarkable  effect  of  the  book 
to  the  simplicity  of  the  critic's  taste  rather  than  to 
the  absolute  savor  of  the  book. 

It  is  necessary  in  criticism  to  keep  some  standard 
of  values.  Two  girls  in  a  class  in  criticism  chose  to 
review  the  same  writer,  an  exquisite  essayist.  One 
of  them  found  fault  with  the  writer  for  wanting  some 
of  the  virtues  of  Shakespeare;  the  other  praised  the 
essayist  as  being  superior,  in  certain  particulars,  to 
Holmes,  Lowell,  and  writers  of  that  class.  The  first 
thought  she  had  proved  her  writer  of  little  value. 
In  reality,  her  blame,  had  it  been  discriminating, 
would  have  been  higher  praise  than  the  second  writ- 
er's approval,  for  a  quantity  that  we  designate  as  less 
than  a  thousand  is  usually  higher  than  one  we  char- 
acterize as  more  than  a  hundred,  and  to  count  a 
writer  comparable  with,  even  though  below,  Shake- 
speare, is  to  honor  him  more  conspicuously  than  to 
give  him  high  rank  in  a  lower  class.  In  the  lecture 
on  Emerson  already  referred  to,  Arnold  said :  "  The 
English  Traits  are,  beyond  question,  very  pleasant 
reading.  It  is  easy  to  praise  them.  But  I  insist  on 


154  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

always  trying  Emerson's  work  by  the  highest  stand- 
ards. I  esteem  his  work  too  much  to  try  his  work  by 
any  other.  Tried  by  the  highest  standards,  and  com- 
pared with  the  work  of  the  excellent  markers  and 
recorders  of  the  traits  of  human  life,  —  of  writers  like 
Montaigne,  La  Bruyere,  Addison,  —  the  English 
Traits  will  not  stand  the  comparison.'*  More  impor- 
tant than  the  want  of  effect  on  the  reader,  is  the 
effect  on  the  writer  of  careless  commendation  or  cen- 
sure; it  blunts  the  critical  faculty,  and  lowers  the 
standards  of  those  who  habitually  practice  it. 

To  say  that  the  critic  must  have  high  standards 
does  not  mean  that  he  will  quarrel  with  every  author 
for  not  being  a  Shakespeare.  It  means,  however, 
that  he  will  not  give  to  lesser  writers  the  same  degree 
of  praise  that  belongs  to  writers  of  the  highest  class. 
He  will  recognize  and  appreciate  writers  of  varying 
degrees  of  power,  but  in  his  judgment  of  them  he 
will  never  confuse  one  with  the  other.  He  will  not 
lose  sight  of  his  standard ;  he  will  appreciate  every 
approach  towards  it,  award  to  each  writer  the  com- 
mendation appropriate  to  his  merit, — and  no  more. 

It  is  not  supposable  that  the  student-critic  has,  in 
all  cases,  correct  standards;  such  standards  imply 
wide  reading  of  good  literature,  and  will  be  modified 
as  the  student  develops.  The  great  point  is  that  the 
beginner  should  be  true  to  his  sense  of  excellence. 
He  should  bear  in  mind  that  while  excessive  praise  is 


GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS  155 

fatuous,  insincere  faultfinding  is  worse.  A  spirit  of 
sound,  youthful  enthusiasm,  so  long  as  it  is  sustained 
by  definiteness  of  statement  and  apt  presentation,  is 
greatly  to  be  preferred  to  pointless  or  misdirected 
moderation  or  censure  —  to  "  cold  reservations  and 
incredulities,"  as  George  Eliot  expressed  it,  "  put 
forth  to  save  the  critic's  credit  for  wisdom." 

EXERCISES 

i.    Give  the  purpose  and  the  method  of  each  of  the 
following  paragraphs  of  criticism  :  — 

(a)  "  Other  poets  have  held  their  mirrors  up  to  nature, 
mirrors  that  differ  very  widely  in  the  truth  and  beauty  of 
the  images  they  reflect;  but  Spenser's  is  a  magic  glass  in 
which  we  see  few  shadows  cast  back  from  actual  life,  but 
visionary  shapes  conjured  up  by  the  wizard's  art  from  some 
confusedly  remembered  past  or  some  impossible  future ;  it 
is  like  one  of  those  still  pools  of  mediaeval  legend  which 
covers  some  sunken  city  of  the  antique  world ;  a  reservoir 
in  which  all  our  dreams  seem  to  have  been  gathered.  As 
we  float  upon  it,  we  see  that  it  pictures  faithfully  enough  the 
summer-clouds  that  drift  over  it,  the  trees  that  grow  about 
its  margin,  but  in  the  midst  of  these  shadowy  echoes  of 
actuality  we  catch  faint  tones  of  bells  that  seem  blown  to 
us  from  beyond  the  horizon  of  time,  and  looking  down  into 
the  clear  depths,  catch  glimpses  of  towers  and  far- shining 
knights  and  peerless  dames  that  waver  and  are  gone.  Is  it 
a  world  that  ever  was,  or  shall  be,  or  can  be,  or  but  a 
delusion?"  —  JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL:  Spenser. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

(fr)  "  Writers  who  have  paid  particular  attention  to  style 


156  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

have  often  been  accused  of  caring  little  what  they  say, 
knowing  how  beautifully  they  can  say  anything.  The  accu- 
sation has  generally  been  unjust :  as  if  any  fine  beauty  could 
be  but  skin-deep  !  The  merit  which,  more  than  any  other, 
distinguishes  Pater's  prose,  though  it  is  not  the  merit  most 
on  the  surface,  is  the  attention  to,  the  perfection  of,  the  en- 
semble, under  the  soft  and  musical  phrases  an  inexorable 
logic  hides  itself,  sometimes  only  too  well.  Link  is  added 
silently,  but  faultlessly,  to  link ;  the  argument  marches,  car- 
rying you  with  it,  while  you  fancy  you  are  only  listening  to 
the  music  with  which  it  keeps  step.  Take  an  essay  to 
pieces,  and  you  will  find  that  it  is  constructed  with  mathe- 
matical precision ;  every  piece  can  be  taken  out  and  re- 
placed in  order.  I  do  not  know  any  contemporary  writer 
who  observes  the  logical  requirements  so  scrupulously,  who 
conducts  an  argument  so  steadily  from  deliberate  point  to 
point  toward  a  determined  goal." 

—  ARTHUR  SYMONS  :  Studies  in  Prose  and  Verse. 
By  permission  of  E.  P.  Button  and  Company. 
(c)  "  Macaulay's  '  party- spirit '  is  another  consequence  of 
his  positiveness.  When  he  inclines  to  a  side,  he  inclines  to 
it  too  much.  His  opinions  are  a  shade  too  strong ;  his  pre- 
dilections some  degrees  at  least  too  warm.  William  is  too 
perfect,  James  too  imperfect.  The  Whigs  are  a  trifle  like 
angels;  the  Tories  like,  let  us  say,  'our  inferiors.7  Yet 
this  is  evidently  an  honest  party-spirit.  It  does  not  lurk  in 
the  corners  of  sentences,  it  is  not  insinuated  without  being 
alleged ;  it  does  not,  like  the  unfairness  of  Hume,  secrete 
itself  so  subtly  in  the  turns  of  the  words,  that  when  you 
look  to  prove  it,  it  is  gone.  On  the  contrary,  it  rushes  into 
broad  day.  William  is  loaded  with  panegyric;  James  is 
always  spoken  evil  of.  Hume's  is  the  artful  pleading  of  a 


GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS  157 

hired  advocate;  Macaulay's  the  bold  eulogy  of  a  sincere 
friend.  As  far  as  effect  goes,  this  is  an  error.  The  very 
earnestness  of  the  affection  leads  to  a  reaction ;  we  are  tired 
of  having  William  called  the  'just' ;  we  cannot  believe  so 
many  pages;  'all  that'  can  scarcely  be  correct." 

—  WALTER    BAGEHOT:    Estimates    of  Englishmen    and 

Scotchmen. 

(d)  "  Tennyson  is  rightly  considered  the  most  perfect  artist 
among  nineteenth-century  English  poets.     But  this  is  not 
merely  because  his  verse  is  rich  and  musical :  it  is  because 
his  work  is  also  true,  even  the  smallest  details.     You  remem- 
ber that  beautiful  bit  in  Maud  :  — 

" '  Her  feet  have  touch'd  the  meadows 
And  left  the  daisies  rosy '  ? 

If  an  American  poet  had  written  that  about  an  American 
girl,  it  would  have  been  sentimental  nonsense.  Why?  Be- 
cause the  American  daisy  is  all  white  and  yellow.  There  is 
nothing  rosy  about  it.  But  the  English  daisy  is  really  pink 
on  the  under  side  of  its  petals,  so  when  Maud  crossed  the 
field  she  really  left  her  footprints  marked  in  rose-color  in 
the  upturned  flowers  where  she  had  trodden." 

—  HENRY  VAN  DYKE.     From  Dye's  Letters  and  Letter 

Writing. 

Copyright,   1903,  by  the  Bobbs-Merrill  Company.     By  special 
permission. 

(e)  "  It  is  this  vision  of  the  eternally  romantic  in  the  un- 
flinchingly real  that  is  the  mark  of  Mr.  Kipling's  genius. 
Look  at  his  most  popular  piece,  for  instance,  which  sets  out 
to  be  a  comic  remonstrance  addressed  by  Tommy  Atkins  to 
his  inappreciative  countrymen  :  who  can  fail  to  see  that  what 
has  imprinted  it  on  every  one's  memory  is  the  note  of  ro- 
mance so  skillfully  inwoven  in  the  refrain?    Take  a  single 


158  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

stanza,  and  observe  how  the  grimy  commonplace  of  the  first 
four  lines  is  lifted  into  a  new  significance  by  contrast  with 
the  vision  of  the  sea  and  the  great  troopships  :  — 

" '  I  went  into  a  theater  as  sober  as  could  be, 

They  gave  a  drunk  civilian  room,  but  'adn't  none  for  me ; 

They  sent  me  to  the  gallery  or  round  the  music-'alls, 

But  when  it  comes  to  fightin',  Lord!  they'll  shove  me  in  the  stalls ! 

"  *  For  it's  Tommy  this,  an'  Tommy  that,  an'  "  Tommy,  wait  outside  " ; 
But  it's  "  special  train  for  Atkins  "  when  the  trooper's  on  the  tide, 
When  the  troopship's  on  the  tide,  my  boys,  when  the  troopship's 

on  the  tide, 
O,  it's  "  special  train  for  Atkins  "  when  the  trooper's  on  the  tide.' 

"  Each  of  these  different  refrains  is  an  inspiration  :  — 

" '  O,  it's  Tommy  this,  an'  Tommy  that,  an'  "  Tommy,  go  away  " ; 

But   it's  "  Thank  you,  Mister  Atkins "  when  the  band  begins  to 

play  .   .  . 
Then  it's  Tommy  this,  an'  Tommy  that,  an'  "Tommy,  'ow's  yer 

soul?" 
But  it's    uThin  red   lines   of  'eroes"  when  the   drums  begin   to 

roll  .  .  . 
For  it's  Tommy  this,  an'  Tommy  that,  an'  "  chuck  him  out,  the 

brute !  " 
But  it's  "  Saviour  of  'is  country"  when  the  guns  begin  to  shoot  .  .  .' 

"Even  in  the  less  good — the  more  commonplace  —  of 
the  Barrack-Room  Ballads,  we  find  a  sense  of  vastness  and  a 
sense  of  sadness  underlying  the  grotesque  exterior,  that  are 
new  in  patriotic  verse.     For  instance,"  etc. 
—  WILLIAM  ARCHER  :  Poets  of  the  Younger  Generation. 
By  permission  of  The  John  Lane  Company. 

2.    Discuss  the  tone  of  the  following  paragraphs 
of  criticism :  — 

(a)  "All  through  his  [Lowell's]  early  poems  runs  the  thread 
of  a  fine  morality,  the  perception  of  the  highest  obligations 


GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS  159 

of  religion  and  philanthropy,  the  subtle  distinction  of  the 
purest  Christianity,  the  defense  of  the  weak  and  oppressed, 
the  succor  of  the  poor;  in  fine,  the  creed  of  a  practical 
religion  which  required  its  adherent  to  go  into  the  slums 
and  out  on  the  highways  to  carry  out  his  convictions  in  acts. 
In  the  warfare  he  waged  on  slavery  when  the  anti- slavery 
cause  was  very  unpopular,  and,  in  the  case  of  Garrison  and 
others,  brought  on  its  advocates  continual  danger  and  occa- 
sional violence,  Lowell  was  unsparing  in  his  denunciation  of 
the  national  sin." 

—  WILLIAM   JAMES   STILLMAN:    The  Autobiography   of  a 

Journalist. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

(£)  "Although  ill-temper  has  evidently  engendered  this 
'  Fable,'  it  is  by  no  means  a  satire  throughout.  Much  of  it 
is  devoted  to  panegyric  —  but  our  readers  would  be  quite 
puzzled  to  know  the  grounds  of  the  author's  laudations  in 
many  cases,  unless  made  acquainted  with  a  fact  which  we 
think  it  as  well  they  should  be  informed  of  at  once.  Mr. 
Lowell  is  one  of  the  most  rabid  of  the  abolition  fanatics ; 
and  no  Southerner  who  does  not  wish  to  be  insulted,  and  at 
the  same  time  revolted,  by  a  bigotry  the  most  obstinately 
blind  and  deaf,  should  ever  touch  a  volume  by  this  author. 
His  fanaticism  about  slavery  is  a  mere  local  outbreak  of  the 
same  innate  wrong-headedness  which,  if  he  owned  slaves, 
would  manifest  itself  in  atrocious  ill-treatment  of  them,  with 
murder  of  any  abolitionist  who  should  endeavor  to  set  them 
free.  A  fanatic  of  Mr.  L.'s  species  is  simply  a  fanatic  for  the 
sake  of  fanaticism,  and  must  be  a  fanatic  in  whatever  cir- 
cumstance you  place  him. 

"  His  prejudices  on  the  topic  of  slavery  break  out  every- 
where in  his  present  book.  Mr.  L.  has  not  the  common 


l6o  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

honesty  to  speak  well,  even  in  a  literary  sense,  of  any  man 
who  is  not  a  ranting  abolitionist.  With  the  exception  of  Mr. 
Poe  (who  has  written  some  commendatory  criticism  on  his 
poems)  no  Southerner  is  mentioned  at  <z//in  this  '  Fable.' 
It  is  the  fashion  among  Mr.  Lowell's  set  to  affect  a  belief 
that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  Southern  Literature." 

—  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  :  James  Russell  Lowell. 

(c)  "  Among  the  minor  poems  in  this  collection  is  '  The 
Forsaken/  so  widely  known  and  so  universally  admired. 
The  popular  as  well  as  the  critical  voice  ranks  it  as  the  most 
beautiful  ballad  of  its  kind  ever  written. 

"  We  have  read  this  little  poem  more  than  twenty  times, 
and  always  with  increasing  admiration.  //  is  inexpressibly 
beautiful.  No  one  of  real  feeling  can  peruse  it  without  a 
strong  inclination  to  tears.  Its  irresistible  charm  is  its  abso- 
lute truth  —  the  unaffected  naturalness  of  its  thought.  The 
sentiment  which  forms  the  basis  of  the  composition  is,  per- 
haps, at  once  the  most  universal  and  the  most  passionate  of 
sentiments.  No  human  being  exists,  over  the  age  of  fifteen, 
who  has  not,  in  his  heart  of  hearts,  a  ready  echo  for  all  there 
so  pathetically  expressed.  The  essential  poetry  of  the  ideas 
would  only  be  impaired  by  '  foreign  ornament.'  This  is  a 
case  in  which  we  should  be  repelled  by  the  mere  conven- 
tionalities of  the  muse.  We  demand,  for  such  thoughts,  the 
most  rigorous  simplicity  at  all  points.  It  will  be  observed 
that,  strictly  speaking,  there  is  not  an  attempt  at '  imagery ' 
in  the  whole  poem.  All  is  direct,  terse,  penetrating.  In 
a  word,  nothing  could  be  better  done.  The  versification, 
while  in  full  keeping  with  the  general  character  of  simplicity, 
has,  in  certain  passages,  a  vigorous,  trenchant  euphony, 
which  would  confer  honor  on  the  most  accomplished 
masters  of  the  art.  We  refer  especially  to  the  lines  :  — 


GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS  l6l 

"  *  And  follow  me  to  my  long  home 
Solemn  and  slow? 

And  the  quatrain  — 

"  *  Could  I  but  know  when  I  am  sleeping 

Loiv  in  the  ground 

One  faithful  heart  would  there  be  keeping 
Watch  all  night  round.' 

"The  initial  trochee  here,  in  each  instance,  substituted 
for  the  iambus,  produces,  so  naturally  as  to  seem  accidental, 
a  very  effective  echo  of  sound  to  sense.  The  thought  in- 
cluded in  the  line,  <  And  light  the  tomb/  should  be  dwelt 
upon  to  be  appreciated  in  its  full  extent  of  beauty ;  and  the 
verses  which  I  have  italicized  in  the  last  stanza  are  poetry  — 
poetry  in  the  purest  sense  of  that  much  misused  word. 
They  have  power  —  indisputable  power;  making  us  thrill 
with  a  sense  of  their  weird  magnificence  as  we  read  them." 
—  EDGAR  ALLAN  POE  :  Estelle  Ann  Lewis. 

(<f)  "  He  is  one  of  the  foremost  story-tellers  of  the  world, 
with  the  gift  of  swift  narrative,  with  the  certain  grasp  of 
human  nature,  with  a  rare  power  of  presenting  character  at 
a  passionate  crisis.  There  is  not  in  the  fiction  of  our  lan- 
guage and  of  our  country  anything  finer  of  its  kind  than  any 
one  of  half  a  dozen  chapters  in  Tom  Sawyer,  in  Huckle- 
berry Finn,  in  Pudd^nhead  Wilson. 

"  Partly  because  his  fiction  is  uneven,  and  is  never  long 
sustained  at  its  highest  level  of  excellence,  partly  because 
he  has  also  written  too  much  that  is  little  better  than  bur- 
lesque and  extravaganza,  but  chiefly  because  he  is  primarily 
a  humorist,  because  he  is  free  from  cant  and  sham  pathos, 
because  he  does  not  take  himself  too  seriously,  because  his 
humor  is  free,  flowing,  unfailing,  because  his  laughter  is 
robust,  contagious,  and  irresistible,  because  he  has  made  more 

EXPOSITION  —  1 1 


162  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

of  our  scattered  English-speaking  people  laugh  than  any 
other  man  of  our  time  —  because  of  all  of  these  things  we 
do  not  see  that  in  all  fiction,  since  the  single  footprint  on 
the  shore  fell  under  the  eyes  of  the  frightened  Crusoe,  there 
is  no  more  thrilling  moment  than  when  the  hand  of  Indian 
Joe  (his  one  enemy)  comes  slowly  within  the  vision  of  Tom 
Sawyer,  lost  in  the  cave ;  we  do  not  see  that  no  one  of  our 
American  novelists  has  ever  shown  more  insight  into  the 
springs  of  human  action  or  more  dramatic  force  than  is 
revealed  in  Huck  Finn's  account  of  the  Shepherdson- 
Grangerford  feud,  and  of  the  attempt  to  lynch  Colonel 
Sherburn;  we  do  not  see  that  it  would  be  hard  to  select 
from  all  the  story-tellers  of  the  nineteenth  century  a  scene 
of  immeasurable  pathos  surpassing  that  in  Pudd'nhead 
Wilson  when  the  wretched  Chambers  knowingly  sells  his 
own  mother  ( down  the  river.'  n 

—  BRANDER  MATTHEWS  :    Aspects  of  Fiction   and  other 

Ventures  in  Criticism. 
Copyright,  1896,  by  Harper  arid  Brothers. 

(e)  "  O,  mighty  poet !  [Shakespeare]  Thy  works  are 
not  as  those  of  other  men,  simply  and  merely  great  works 
of  art ;  but  are  also  like  the  phenomena  of  nature,  like  the 
sun  and  the  sea,  the  stars  and  the  flowers,  —  like  frost  and 
snow,  rain  and  dew,  hail-storm  and  thunder,  which  are  to 
be  studied  with  entire  submission  of  our  own  faculties,  and 
in  the  perfect  faith  that  in  them  there  can  be  none  too  much 
or  too  little,  nothing  useless  or  inert,  —  but  that,  the  further 
we  press  in  our  discoveries,  the  more  we  shall  see  proofs  of 
design  and  self-supporting  arrangement  where  the  careless 
eye  had  seen  nothing  but  accident." 

DE  QUINCEY  :  Macbeth. 


GENERAL  REQUIREMENTS  163 

3.  a.  In  the  following  paragraph  on  the  spon- 
taneity of  Mme.  de  SevigneVs  style,  what  larger  ques- 
tion is  introduced  ?  Is  the  unity  of  the  paragraph 
violated  ?  Give  reason  for  your  answer. 

"  The  style  of  Mme.  de  Sevigne*  has  been  so  often  and  so 
intelligently  judged,  analyzed,  admired,  that  it  would  be 
difficult  to-day  to  find  eulogy  both  novel  and  suitable  to  ap- 
ply to  it ;  on  the  other  hand,  I  do  not  find  myself  disposed 
to  revive  a  worn-out  topic  by  caviling  criticism.  A  single 
observation  will  suffice ;  it  is  that  we  may  connect  the  grand 
and  beautiful  styles  of  the  Louis  XIV.  period  with  two  differ- 
ent systems,  two  opposite  manners.  Malherbe  and  Balzac 
founded  in  our  literature  the  learned,  polished,  chastened, 
cultivated  style ;  in  the  composition  of  which  they  come 
from  thought  to  expression,  slowly,  by  degrees,  and  by  dint 
oftentatives  and  erasures.  This  is  the  style  that  Boileau 
advised  for  all  purposes ;  he  would  fain  have  a  work  re- 
turned twenty  times  to  the  stocks  to  be  polished  and  repol- 
ished  constantly;  he  boasts  of  having  taught  Racine  to 
write  easy  verses  in  a  difficult  manner.  Racine  is,  in  fact, 
the  most  perfect  specimen  of  this  style  in  poesy ;  Fle"chier 
was  less  successful  in  his  prose.  But  by  the  side  of  this 
style  of  writing,  always  somewhat  uniform  and  academic, 
there  is  another,  widely  different,  free,  capricious,  variable, 
without  traditional  method,  and  wholly  conformed  to  diversi- 
ties of  talent  and  genius.  Montaigne  and  Regnier  gave 
admirable  samples  of  it,  and  Queen  Marguerite  a  most 
charming  one  in  her  familiar  memoirs,  the  work  of  her 
apres-disnees.  This  is  the  broad,  untrammeled,  abundant 
style  that  follows  the  current  of  ideas ;  the  style  of  the  first 
thought,  the  prime- sautier,  as  Montaigne  himself  would  say ; 


1 64  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

it  is  that  of  La  Fontaine  and  Moliere,  that  of  Fe*nelon,  of 
Bossuet,  of  the  Due  de  Saint-Simon,  and  of  Mme.  de  SeVigne", 
The  latter  excels  in  it ;  she  lets  her  pen  '  trot  with  the  reins 
on  its  neck/  and,  as  it  goes  along,  she  scatters  in  profusion 
colors,  comparisons,  images,  while  wit  and  sentiment  escape 
her  on  all  sides.  She  is  thus  placed,  without  intending  or 
suspecting  it,  in  the  front  rank  of  the  writers  of  our  language." 
—  C.  A.  SAINTE-BEUVE  :  Portraits  of  the  Seventeenth  Century. 

Translated  by  K.  P.  Wormeley. 
Copyright,  1904,  by  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons. 

b.  Name  any  writers  you  know  who  seem  to  be- 
long to  the  class  first  described  by  Sainte-Beuve ;  to 
the  second  class. 

4.  Is  the  presentation  in  the  following  passage 
self-explanatory  or  is  the  interpretative  passage, 
"  From  the  book  .  .  .  nai've  and  fundamental,"  neces- 
sary to  your  understanding  of  the  presentation  ? 

"  Mr.  Richards  told  of  advertising  enterprises,  of  contracts 
and  journeyings,  of  his  great  friendship  with  the  late  Dr. 
Parker,  of  his  domestic  affairs,  and  all  the  changes  in  the 
world  that  had  struck  him.  .  .  .  From  the  book  one  got 
an  effect,  garrulous  perhaps,  but  on  the  whole  not  unpleasing, 
of  an  elderly  but  still  active  business  personality  quite  satis- 
fied by  his  achievements  and  representative  of  I  know  not 
what  proportion,  but  at  any  rate  a  considerable  proportion, 
of  his  fellow-countrymen.  And  one  got  an  effect  of  a  being 
not  simply  indifferent  to  the  health  and  vigor  and  growth  of 
the  community  of  which  he  was  a  part,  but  unaware  of  its 
existence. 

"He  displays  this  irresponsibility  of  the  commercial  mind 
so  illuminatingly,  because  he  does  in  a  way  attempt  to  tell 


GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS  165 

something  more  than  his  personal  story.  He  notes  the 
changes  in  the  world  about  him,  how  this  has  improved  and 
that  progressed,  which  contrasts  between  England  and 
America  struck  upon  his  mind.  That  he  himself  is  respon- 
sible amid  these  changes  never  seems  to  dawn  upon  him. 
His  freedom  from  any  sense  of  duty  to  the  world  as  a  whole, 
of  any  subordination  of  trading  to  great  ideas,  is  naive  and 
fundamental.  He  tells  of  how  he  arranged  with  the  author- 
ities in  charge  of  the  Independence  Day  celebration  on  Bos- 
ton Common  to  display  '  three  large  pieces '  containing  the 
name  of  a  certain  '  bitters, '  which  they  did,  and  how  this 
no  doubt  very  desirable  commodity  was  first  largely  adver- 
tised throughout  the  United  States,  in  the  fall  of  1861,  and 
rapidly  became  the  success  of  the  day,  because  of  the  enor- 
mous amount  of  placarding  given  to  the  cabalistic  characters 
'  S-T-i86o-X. '  Those  strange  letters  and  figures  stared 
upon  people  from  wall  and  fence  and  tree,  in  every  leading 
town  throughout  the  United  States.  They  were  painted  on 
the  rocks  of  the  Hudson  River  to  such  an  extent  that  the 
attention  of  the  legislature  was  drawn  to  the  fact,  and  a  law 
was  passed  to  prevent  the  further  disfigurement  of  river 
scenery. 

"  He  calls  this  '  cute/  He  tells,  too,  of  his  educational 
work  upon  the  English  Press,  how  he  won  it  over  to  '  display ' 
advertisements,  and  devised  '  the  first  sixteen-sheet  double- 
demy  poster  ever  seen  in  England  in  connection  with  a 
proprietary  article/  He  introduced  the  smoking  of  ciga- 
rettes into  England  against  great  opposition.  Mr.  Richards 
finds  no  incongruity,  but  apparently  a  very  delightful  as- 
sociation, in  the  fact  that  this  great  victory  for  the  adoles- 
cent's cigarette  was  won  on  the  site  of  Strudwick's  house, 
wherein  John  Bunyan  died,  and  hard  by  the  path  of  the 


1 66  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

Smithfield  martyrs  to  their  fiery  sacrifice.     Both  they  and 
Mr.  Richards  'lit  such  a  candle  in  England/ 

******* 

"He  sat  under  the  late  Dr.  Parker  of  the  rich  and  pros- 
perous City  Temple,  and  that  reverend  gentleman's  leonine 
visage  adorns  the  book.  .  .  .  For  this  gentleman  Mr.  Rich- 
ards seems  to  have  entertained  a  feeling  approaching 
reverence.  ...  I  find  Mr.  Richards  quoting  with  approval 
Dr.  Parker's  'Ten  General  Commandments  for  Men  of 
Business'  —  commandments  which  strike  me  as  not  only 
state-blind,  but  utterly  God-blind,  which  are,  indeed,  no 
more  than  shrewd  counsels  'for  getting  on.'  It  is  really 
quite  horrible  stuff  morally.  '  Thou  shalt  not  hobnob  with 
idle  persons,'  parodies  Dr.  Parker  in  commandment  V,  so 
glossing  richly  upon  the  teachings  of  Him  who  ate  with 
publicans  and  sinners,  and  (no  doubt  to  instill  the  advisa- 
bility of  keeping  one's  more  delicate  business  procedure  in 
one's  own  hands),  'Thou  shalt  not  forget  that  a  servant 
who  can  tell  lies  for  thee,  may  some  day  tell  lies  to  thee.'  .  .  . 

"  I  am  not  throwing  any  doubt  upon  the  sincerity  of  Dr. 
Parker  and  Mr.  Richards.  I  believe  that  nothing  could  ex- 
ceed the  transparent  honesty  that  ends  this  record  which 
tells  of  a  certain  bitters  pushed  at  the  sacrifice  of  beautiful 
scenery,  of  a  successful  propaganda  of  cigarette-smoking, 
and  of  all  sorts  of  proprietary  articles  landed  well  home  in 
their  gastric  target,  of  a  whole  life  lost,  indeed,  in  commercial 
self-seeking,  with,  'What  shall  I  render  unto  the  Lord  for 
all  his  benefits? '  "  —  H.  G.  WELLS  :  The  Future  in  America. 
Copyright,  1906,  by  Harper  and  Brothers. 

5.  Choose  an  author  who  interests  you  and  write  a 
paragraph  characterizing  his  style  by  close,  direct 


GENERAL   REQUIREMENTS  167 

interpretation.  Write  a  second  paragraph  in  which 
you  illustrate  the  quality  you  have  discussed  by 
examples  accompanied  by  interpretative  comment. 
Write  a  third  paragraph  in  which  you  use  a  figure  to 
describe  the  effect  of  the  quality  you  have  ascribed  to 
your  author. 

6.  Write  a  paragraph  of  comment  on  an  author's 
work,  to  bring  out  some  one  idea.  Write  a  paragraph 
of  presentation  that  without  the  aid  of  comment  will 
bring  out  the  same  idea. 


CRITICISM  OF  A  STORY 

THE  reviewer  of  a  story  may  use  the  reporter's 
method,  concerning  himself  little  or  not  at  all  with 
any  problem  about  the  book  and  giving  his  entire 
attention  to  showing  forth  the  content  of  the  book 
and  its  obvious  characteristics,  or  he  may  assume  the 
reader's  acquaintance  with  the  story  and  give  merely 
his  judgment  of  it.  Again,  he  may  combine  judg- 
ment and  presentation,  or  he  may  suppress  judgment 
and  present  the  story  in  such  a  way  as  to  imply 
judgment.  If  the  writer  follows  the  popular  arrange- 
ment, he  will  give  first  some  exposition  of  the  content 
of  the  story,  then,  comment  on  the  story  and  upon 
the  style  in  which  it  is  written. 

When  included  in  the  criticism,  the  telling  of  the 
story  is  usually  an  important  part  of  the  review. 
There  are  various  ways  of  doing  this  effectively. 
The  ordinary  newspaper  article  suggests  an  excellent 
way  :  the  headlines  give  the  kernel  of  the  article ; 
they  are  followed  by  a  brief  statement  of  general 
facts ;  this  general  statement  is  followed  by  a  detailed 
account.  Thus,  one  might  begin  by  stating  in  general 
terms  the  theme  of  the  story,  as :  — 

The  Divine  Fire  is  a  novel  worked  out  on  Emerson's 
16$ 


CRITICISM   OF   A   STORY  169 

theory  of  the  over-soul — a  story  of  triumph  through 
fidelity  to  the  inner  vision. 

George  Eliot's  Romola  shows  the  slight  value  of 
neutral  goodness. 

Stevenson's  Doctor  Jeky II  and  Mr.  Hyde  is  a  tale 
of  the  futility  of  the  attempt  to  lead  a  double  life. 

In  What  Masie  Knew,  Mr.  Henry  James  presents 
the  case  of  a  child  who  develops  a  moral  conscience 
in  most  adverse  circumstances. 

That  freedom  from  ignoble  conditions  is  not  to  be 
gained  by  running  away  from  them,  but  by  taking 
up  your  life  in  the  midst  of  them  and  so  controlling 
it  that  they  shall  not  dominate  you,  —  this  was  the 
lesson  experience  taught  Mr.  Herrick's  intractable 
hero  in  The  Web  of  Life. 

After  the  key  of  the  story  is  obtained,  the  second 
step  is  to  give  it  more  ample  statement :  — 

The  Divine  Fire  is  a  novel  worked  out  on  Emerson's 
theory  of  the  over-soul — a  story  of  the  importance 
of  fidelity  to  the  inner  light  in  the  life  of  man.  The 
gentleman-critic  with  apparently  a  finely  poised  and 
rightly  centered  life,  to  whom  all  good  things  seem 
possible,  is  untrue  in  spirit  to  the  divine  fire,  and  so 
loses  and  falls.  The  protagonist,  on  the  other  hand, 
notwithstanding  his  poetic  gift,  is  something  of  a 
"  bounder,"  living  at  cross-purposes  in  vulgar  con- 
ditions, until  an  illuminating  experience  makes  him 
sensitive  to  the  guidance  of  the  "  divine  fire  "  ;  then, 


I/O  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

by  following  its  leading,  in  spite  of  counter  allure- 
ments, and  one  narrow  escape  from  a  serious  misstep, 
his  life  becomes  unified,  his  power  perfected,  and  he 
attains  real  success  and  the  earthly  "  shows  "  of  it,  as 
well. 

George  Eliot's  Romola  shows  the  slight  value 
of  neutral  goodness  by  tracing  the  degeneration  of 
a  character  of  great  charm  whose  tendency  to  choose 
the  easiest  way  and  avoid  pain  is  at  the  opening  of 
the  story  his  chief  fault. 

It  is  now  necessary  to  provide  the  characters  with 
a  "  local  habitation  and  a  name,"  to  present  some- 
thing of  the  narrative.  You  now  have  a  nucleus 
about  which  to  build  your  story.  If  you  are  guided 
by  it  to  select  those  details  germane  to  the  central  idea 
of  the  story,  you  will  have  no  difficulty  in  telling  it 
with  brevity  and  completeness. 

An  unpracticed  writer  is  apt  to  fail  at  the  second 
step  —  to  give  the  narrative  with  too  much  detail,  so 
that  his  specific  narrative  must  include  much  that 
has  already  been  said.  It  is  possible  to  omit  this 
step  altogether,  to  allow  the  reader  to  find  for  him- 
self how  the  story  works  out  the  theme.  But  the 
critic  greatly  economizes  the  reader's  time  and  atten- 
tion by  indicating  the  direction  in  which  the  applica- 
tion of  the  theme  is  to  be  looked  for.  The  reader 
is  then  able  to  perceive  the  development  of  the  theme 
as  he  reads  the  abridged  story.  As  the  reviewer 


CRITICISM   OF   A   STORY  171 

can  at  best  give  so  little  of  a  complex  story,  he  must 
needs  avail  himself  of  such  aid  to  make  the  fragment 
he  offers  intelligible.  This  general  statement  should 
be  given  so  briefly  and  abstractly  as  not  to  be  the 
story,  but  rather  the  framework  into  which  the  story 
fits.  The  statement  of  the  theme  and  this  guide  to 
its  specific  development,  together,  should  make  no 
more  than  a  single  paragraph. 

Regarding  the  telling  of  a  story,  however,  as  in 
other  matters  of  criticism,  it  is  impossible  to  establish 
any  hard  and  fast  rule.  The  story  reviewed  must 
determine  the  manner  of  its  telling.  Manifestly,  if 
the  story  is  one  like  Aldrich's  Marjorie  Daw  or  Guy  de 
Maupassant's  Necklace,  whose  purpose  is  to  surprise, 
it  would  be  a  mistake  to  begin  a  review  of  it  with  a 
statement  that  would  make  the  issue  clear  from  the 
start  and  so  render  the  tale  ineffective.  Even  in 
those  cases,  however,  where  in  the  telling  the  clew 
should  be  suppressed  till  the  end,  the  method  for  the 
workshop  is  to  discover  the  motive  of  the  story  by 
which  to  govern  the  selection  of  detail,  at  the  very 
start. 

If  the  story  is  one  whose  plot-interest  is  found  in 
the  incidents  of  the  leading  characters'  lives  —  such 
a  story  as  Robinson  Crusoe,  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield, 
Little  Women,  Cranford,  The  Newcomes,  perhaps 
the  most  satisfactory  way  of  reviewing  the  whole  is 
by  the  enumeration  of  salient,  suggestive  incidents. 


1/2  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

Hazlitt  gives  us  an  instance  of  this  sort  of  suggestive 
recapitulation  applied  to  The  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley 
Papers.  He  says:  — 

"  The  characters  of  the  club,  not  only  in  the  Tatler,  but  in 
the  Spectator,  were  drawn  by  Steele.  That  of  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley  is  among  the  number.  Addison  has,  however, 
gained  himself  immortal  honor  by  his  manner  of  filling  up 
this  last  character.  Who  is  there  that  can  forget,  or  be 
insensible  to,  the  inimitable  nameless  graces  and  varied 
traits  of  nature  and  of  old  English  character  in  it  —  to  his 
unpretending  virtues  and  amiable  weaknesses  —  to  his 
modesty,  generosity,  hospitality,  and  eccentric  whims  —  to 
the  respect  of  his  neighbors,  and  the  affection  of  his 
domestics  —  to  his  wayward,  hopeless,  secret  passion  for 
his  fair  enemy,  the  widow,  in  which  there  is  more  of  real 
romance  and  true  delicacy  than  in  a  thousand  tales  of 
knight-errantry — (we  perceive  the  hectic  flush  of  his  cheek, 
the  faltering  of  his  tongue  in  speaking  of  her  bewitching 
airs  and  '  the  whiteness  of  her  hand ')  —  to  the  havoc  he 
makes  among  the  game  in  his  neighborhood  —  to  his 
speech  from  the  bench,  to  show  the  Spectator  what  is 
thought  of  him  in  the  country  —  to  his  unwillingness  to  be 
put  up  as  a  signpost,  and  his  having  his  own  likeness  turned 
into  the  Saracen's  head  —  to  his  gentle  reproof  of  the  bag- 
gage of  a  gypsy  that  tells  him  '  he  has  a  widow  in  his  line  of 
life '  —  to  his  doubts  as  to  the  existence  of  witchcraft, 
and  protection  of  reputed  witches — to  his  account  of  the 
family  pictures,  and  his  choice  of  a  chaplain  —  to  his  falling 
asleep  at  church,  and  his  reproof  of  John  Williams,  as  soon 
as  he  recovered  from  his  nap,  for  talking  in  sermon- time." 
—  WILLIAM  HAZLITT:  Periodical  Essayists. 


CRITICISM   OF  A   STORY  173 

Unity  and  comprehensiveness,  while  fundamental 
requirements,  are  not  the  only  ends  to  be  worked  for 
in  telling  a  story.  Not  only  should  the  essential 
details  be  given,  they  should  be  presented  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  preserve  as  well  as  possible  the  tone 
and  spirit  of  the  story.  Any  telling  of  Poe's  Black 
Cat  that  failed  to  give  a  sense  of  horror,  The  Brush- 
wood Boy  told  with  no  suggestion  of  eerie  sweetness, 
would  be  flat.  Balaustiori s  Adventure  without  its 
tonic  quality,  The  Wings  of  a  Dove  without  a  sug- 
gestion of  elusiveness,  of  shadowy  things  too  intangi- 
ble for  articulation  —  these  things  are  well-nigh  more 
insufferable  than  Hamlet  with  Hamlet  left  out.  The 
success  of  the  summary  of  a  story  will  depend  largely 
on  the  power  of  the  writer  to  get  into  the  spirit  of 
the  story  and  preserve  its  mystery,  its  quaintness,  its 
relentless  directness,  or  whatever  quality  character- 
izes it.  Some  story-tellers  unconsciously  fall  more  or 
less  into  the  tone  of  the  narrative  they  are  epitomiz- 
ing, but  when  we  work,  as  we  should,  for  brevity  and 
unity,  we  are  in  danger  of  losing  this  indispensable 
quality,  and  must  make  conscious  effort  to  preserve 
or  secure  it.  A  palpable  device  that  is  helpful  here 
is  to  quote  characteristic  words  or  phrases  of  the 
original  story-teller  in  repeating  his  story.  "  At  the 
boarding-house  dinner  table  arranged  with  a  view  to 
the  effect  on  the  passer-by,  where  the  men  refused  a 
second  serving  of  '  canary  pudding '  as  if  renouncing 


LITERARY   CRITICISM 

happiness,  and  the  women  shone  in  *  hilarious'  blouses, 
the  presence  of  the  poet,"  etc.,  does  more  to  hint  the 
spirit  of  the  unforgettable  London  boarding  house  in 
May  Sinclair's  The  Divine  Fire  than  "at  the  bourgeois 
boarding-house  table  where  his  fellow-diners  showed 
their  ingrained  vulgarity  in  their  dress  and  in  the 
emphasis  they  placed  on  what  they  ate,"  etc.  In  the 
second  version  there  is  no  hint  of  the  writer's  humor- 
ous view  of  the  situation. 

Presentation  accomplished,  the  critic  may  give  his 
attention  to  judicial  criticism.  It  must  be  understood 
that  criticism  does  not  necessarily  follow  presenta- 
tion;  it  may  precede;  the  story  may  be  told,  as  in 
Poe's  criticism  of  Dickens's  Barnaby  Rudge,  with  the 
express  purpose  of  sustaining  the  critic's  comment 
on  the  structure  of  the  story.  Or  the  criticism  may 
be  called  forth  as  a  running  comment  during  the  tell- 
ing of  the  story.  Matthew  Arnold's  review  of  Anna 
Karenina  is  a  case  in  point.  The  usual  place  for  the 
comment  is,  however,  after  presentation. 

The  criticism  may  concern  itself  with  the  substance 
or  the  manner  of  the  story,  may  regard  the  natural- 
ness of  the  characters,  the  implied  philosophy  of 
the  story,  the  plot-structure,  the  setting,  the  diction, 
—  all  these  topics  and  many  more.  But  selection  is 
usually  necessary ;  the  student-critic  must  remember 
the  old  warning,  and  let  his  outline  include  only  those 
points  on  which  he  actually  has  something  to  say. 


CRITICISM   OF   A   STORY  175 

In  the  following  paragraphs  on  Dickens's  Christ- 
mas Carol,  Thackeray  omits  presentation  of  the  story 
as  unnecessary,  declines  to  discuss  objections  to  the 
style,  and  centers  his  attention  on  what  is  to  him 
the  valuable  quality  of  the  book  —  its  human 
effect:  — 

"  In  fact,  one  might  as  well  detail  the  plot  of  the  Merry 
Wives  of  Windsor,  or  Robinson  Crusoe,  as  recapitulate  here 
the  adventures  of  Scrooge,  the  miser,  and  his  Christmas  con- 
version. I  am  not  sure  that  the  allegory  is  a  very  complete 
one,  and  protest,  with  the  classics,  against  the  use  of  blank 
verse  in  prose  j  but  here  all  objections  stop.  Who  can 
listen  to  objections  regarding  such  a  book  as  this?  It 
seems  to  me  a  national  benefit,  and  to  every  man  or  woman 
who  reads  it  a  personal  kindness.  The  last  two  people  I 
heard  speak  of  it  were  women.  Neither  knew  the  other, 
or  the  author ;  and  both  said  by  way  of  criticism,  '  God 
bless  him  ! '  A  Scotch  philosopher,  who  nationally  does  not 
keep  Christmas  Day,  on  reading  the  book,  sent  out  for  a 
turkey  and  asked  two  friends  to  dine  :  this  is  a  fact !  Many 
men  were  known  to  sit  down  after  perusing  it,  and  write  off 
letters  to  their  friends,  not  about  business,  but  out  of  their 
fullness  of  heart,  and  to  wish  old  acquaintances  a  happy 
Christmas.  Had  the  book  appeared  a  fortnight  earlier,  all 
the  prize  cattle  would  have  been  gobbled  up  in  pure  love 
and  friendship,  Epping  denuded  of  sausages,  and  not  a  tur- 
key left  in  Norfolk.  His  Royal  Highness's  fat  stock  would 
have  fetched  unheard-of  prices,  and  Alderman  Bannister 
would  have  been  tired  of  slaying.  But  there  is  a  Christmas 
for  1844,  too;  the  book  will  be  as  early  then  as  now,  and 
so  let  speculators  look  out. 


176  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

"  As  for  Tiny  Tim,  there  is  a  certain  passage  in  the  book 
regarding  that  young  gentleman,  about  which  a  man  should 
hardly  venture  to  speak  in  print  or  in  public,  any  more  than 
he  would  of  any  other  affections  of  his  private  heart.  There 
is  not  a  reader  in  England  but  that  little  creature  will  be  a 
bond  of  union  between  the  author  and  him;  and  he  will 
say  of  Charles  Dickens,  as  the  woman  just  now,  '  GOD  BLESS 
HIM  ! '  What  a  feeling  is  this  for  a  writer  to  be  able  to 
inspire,  and  what  a  reward  to  reap  ! " 

This  passage  is  a  mere  fragment  of  criticism,  but 
it  will  show  the  student  how  he  may  dismiss,  without 
ignoring,  points  that  he  does  not  wish  to  consider,  and 
fix  his  attention  on  what  seems  to  him  important. 

What  was  said  in  the  preceding  chapter  about  the 
necessity  of  truth  and  definiteness,  the  importance 
of  illustration,  and  the  right  tone  for  all  literary  criti- 
cism is,  of  course,  applicable  here. 

The  student  will  readily  see,  after  a  little  thought, 
that  what  has  been  said  in  this  chapter  about  method 
of  presentation,  order  of  judicial  criticism  with  regard 
to  presentation,  and  the  limitation  of  the  critic's  com- 
ment for  the  purpose  of  escaping  perfunctoriness,  is 
not  confined  in  its  application  to  the  novel.  The 
suggestions  may  be  applied  equally  well  when  an 
essay  or  a  poem  is  the  subject  of  criticism. 

EXERCISES 

i.  This  exercise  assumes  an  acquaintance  with 
George  Eliot's  Silas  Marner. 


CRITICISM   OF   A   STORY  177 

a.  Find   and   state   concisely  the  theme  of  Silas 
Marner. 

b.  What  tone  should   be  preserved  in  telling  the 
story  ? 

c.  Make  a  list  of   the  author's  words  or   phrases 
which,  if  used  in  telling  the  story,  would  help  to  pre- 
serve this  tone. 

d.  Change  and  fill  out  the  following  outline  so  that 
it  will  indicate  what  you  think  ought  to  be  said  about 
Silas  Marner:  — 

I.    Presentation. 

A.  Theme. 

1.  Statement  of. 

2.  Amplification  of. 

B.  Narrative. 

i.    Silas's  hard  fortune. 

a.  First  instance. 

(1)  Its  nature  :  The  unjust  judgment. 

(2)  Its  effect. 

(a)  On  his  manner  of  living. 

(b)  On  his  character. 

(c)  On  his  reputation. 

b.  Second  instance. 

(1)  Its  nature:  The  loss  of  his  gold. 

(2)  Its  effect. 
(a)  On    him. 

(£)  On     the     attitude     of     others 
toward   him. 

EXPOSITION —  12 


178  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

2.    Silas's  good  fortune. 

a.  First  instance :  The  coming  of  Eppie. 

(1)  Its  occurrence. 

(2)  Its  cause. 

(3)  Its  effects. 
(a)  On  Silas. 

(V)  On  his  neighbors. 

(^)  On  the  Squire's  household. 

b.  Second  instance :    The  finding  of  the 

gold. 

(1)  Its  occurrence. 

(2)  Its  revelations. 

(3)  Its  effects. 
II.    Criticism. 

A.  Structure  of  plot. 

1.  Its  unity. 

2.  Its  probability. 

B.  Setting. 

1.  Character. 

2.  How  presented. 

3.  With  what  effect. 

C.  Characters. 

1.  Silas. 

a.  Elements  of  his  character. 

(1)  Their  manifestations. 

(2)  Their  development. 

b.  Effect  of  character  on  reader. 

2.  Eppie,  etc. 


CRITICISM   OF  A   STORY  179 

e.  Come  to  class  prepared  to  tell  orally  the  story 
of  Silas  Marner,  giving  first  the  theme,  next,  the  gen- 
eral expansion  of  the  theme,  and  finally  the  detailed 
narrative. 

f.  Come  to  class  prepared  to  give  a  specific  oral 
criticism  of  the  plot-structure,  the  setting,  and  the 
characters  of  Silas  Marner. 

2.  Choose  another  novel  that  you  like  and  study  it 
as  you  have  been  directed   to    study  Silas  Marner. 
Bring  to  class  a  careful  and  complete  outline  for  your 
review  of  the  novel,  that  will  help  you  to  remember 
what  you  want  to  say  when  you  are  called  upon  to 
give  an  oral  review  in  class. 

3.  Read  a  review  of  a  novel;  make  an  outline  of 
the  review ;  write  a  criticism  of  it,  specifically  point- 
ing out  its  weakness  or  strength. 

4.  Give  the  themes  of  the  stories  outlined  below  :  — 

"...  The  leading  incident  round  which  the  story  \_The 
World  Went  Very  Well  Then]  is  constructed  was,  in  like 
manner,  found  by  me.  About  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
century  there  was  a  certain  young  lieutenant  of  the  navy  who 
promised  a  girl  at  Deptford  marriage  when  he  should  return 
from  his  next  cruise.  He  did  return ;  she  reminded  him  of 
his  promise ;  he  laughed  at  her.  She  fell  on  her  knees  and 
prayed  solemnly  that  God  Almighty  would  smite  him  in 
that  part  which  he  should  feel  the  most.  He  was  then  ap- 
pointed captain  of  a  ship.  He  took  her  into  action,  having 
the  reputation  of  a  brave  and  gallant  officer.  He  was 
seized  with  sudden  cowardice,  and  struck  the  flag  at  the 


180  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

first  shot.  That  was  my  material  for  the  story,  and  very 
good  material  it  was." 

—  SIR  WALTER  BESANT  :  Autobiography. 
Copyright,  1902,  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company. 

"  And  here  it  is  that  Mr.  Warner  proves  at  once  his  insight 
into  life,  and  his  newly  acquired  skill  as  a  story-teller ;  he 
makes  us  see  and  understand,  and  even  accept  as  inevitable, 
the  slow  process  of  deterioration  which  follows  on  the  mat- 
ing of  a  young  woman  of  lofty  standards  with  a  dominating 
character  of  coarser  and  tougher  substance.  The  disintegra- 
tion of  Margaret's  moral  fiber  under  the  repeated  shocks  of 
worldliness,  incessantly  recurring,  until  at  last  the  strain 
breaks  down  all  resistance,  seems  to  me  one  of  the  finest 
things  in  recent  American  literature. 

******* 

Of  all  the  many  attempts  to  represent  in  fiction  the  Ameri- 
can money-maker,  the  man  who  has  amassed  an  immense  for- 
tune, and  who  goes  on  increasing  it  with  no  thought  of 
resting  from  his  labor,  the  man  who  exists  solely  for  the  sake 
of  making  money,  surrendering  all  tastes  that  interfere  with 
this  passion,  giving  up  everything  else,  abandoning  his  whole 
life  to  gain,  and  not  from  any  sordid  avarice,  not  even  from 
any  great  desire  to  use  what  he  accumulates,  but  moved 
mainly  by  an  interest  in  the  sport  of  speculation,  and  finding 
the  zest  of  his  life  in  the  game  of  money-making,  wholly  re- 
gardless of  the  cash  value  of  the  stakes  —  of  all  the  many 
efforts  to  put  such  a  man  before  us  in  the  pages  of  a  novel, 
this  study  of  Mr.  Warner's  seems  to  me  to  be  the  most  suc- 
cessful. Henderson  is  vigorously  presented,  and  we  get  to 
know  him  and  to  understand  how  it  is  that  he  is  not  unkindly, 
and  that  he  is  absolutely  unscrupulous.  We  perceive  why  he 
has  no  malice  toward  those  he  injured  by  his  scheming,  and 


CRITICISM   OF   A  STORY  l8l 

why  he  bears  them  no  ill  will  even  after  he  has  ruined  them. 
We  see  how  all  the  better  impulses  of  the  man  have  been 
starved  and  choked  by  the  growth  of  the  one  all-absorbing 
passion ;  and  it  is  not  without  pity  that  we  discover  that  not 
only  his  impulses,  but  his  tastes,  his  minor  interests  in  life, 
his  faculty  of  enjoyment,  have  been  eliminated,  one  by  one, 
until  at  last  he  has  nothing  left  but  the  one  thing  on  which 
he  has  set  his  heart,  and  to  which  he  has  bent  his  whole 
being.  Then  at  length  even  this  one  thing  loses  its  savor, 
and  is  as  dust  and  ashes  in  his  mouth.  At  the  very  acme 
and  climax  of  his  triumph  Henderson  knows  that  his  life  has 
been  a  failure." 

—  BRANDER  MATTHEWS  :  Aspects  of  Fiction  and  Other 

Ventures  in  Criticism. 
Copyright,  1896,  by  Harper  and  Brothers. 

5.  Select  one  of  the  following  themes,  and,  in  not 
more  than  ten  lines,  tell  how  it  might  be  developed 
in  a  story :  — 

"  Among  my  shorter  stories  Katherine  Regina,  the  most 
successful,  shows  the  misery  of  being  left  destitute  without 
special  training  or  knowledge.  The  Inner  House  is  an 
allegory  in  which  it  is  shown  that  everything  worth  having 
in  life  depends  upon  death,  the  appointed  end.  ...  In  Dea- 
con's Orders  is  a  study  in  religiosity  which  is  an  emotion 
quite  apart  from  religion.  .  .  .  The  Master  Craftsman  is  the 
history  of  a  politician  who  makes  himself  by  the  aid  of  an 
ambitious  woman.  Beyond  the  Dreams  of  Avarice  is  a  tale 
of  the  evil  influence  of  the  inheritance  of  great  wealth.  Of 
course,  such  a  theme  easily  brings  to  the  stage  a  number  of 
people  of  all  kinds  and  conditions.  The  prospect  of  wealth 
corrupts  and  demoralizes  every  one  —  the  man  of  science, 


1 82  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

the  man  of  pleasure,  the  colonial,  the  actor,  the  American. 
The  Fourth  Generation  is  the  most  serious  of  all  my  novels. 
Here  we  have  to  deal  with  the  truth  that  the  children  do 
undoubtedly  suffer  for  the  sins  of  the  fathers." 

—  SIR  WALTER  BESANT  :  Autobiography. 
Copyright,  1902,  by  Dodd,  Mead  and  Company.    By  permission. 

6.  Discuss  the  meaning,  the  purpose,  and  the 
method  of  each  of  the  following  paragraphs  of 
criticism :  — 

(a)  "  In  the  characters  themselves  [in  The  House  of  the 
Seven  Gables']  this  local  realism  is  carried  to  the  highest 
degree  of  truth,  especially  in  Hepzibah,  who  in  her  half- 
vital  state,  with  her  faded  gentility  and  gentle,  heroic  heart 
of  patient  love,  in  all  her  outer  queerness  and  grotesquely 
thwarted  life,  is  the  most  wholly  alive  of  all  of  Hawthorne's 
characters;  in  Phoebe,  too,  though  in  a  different  way,  is 
the  same  truth  a  life  entirely  real.  .  .  .  There  remains  Judge 
Pyncheon,  on  whom  Hawthorne  evidently  exhausted  his 
skill  in  the  effort  to  make  him  repellent.  He  is  studied 
after  the  gentleman  who  was  most  active  in  the  removal  of 
Hawthorne  from  the  Custom  House,  and  was  intended  to  be 
a  recognizable  portrait  of  him.  .  .  .  But  taken  without 
reference  to  the  original,  Judge  Pyncheon  is  somewhat  of  a 
stage  villain,  a  puppet ;  his  villainy  is  presented  mainly  in 
his  physique,  his  dress  and  walk,  his  smile  and  scowl,  and 
generally  his  demeanor ;  it  is  not  actively  shown.  .  .  .  He 
is  the  bogy  of  the  house,  the  Pyncheon  type  incarnated  in 
each  generation,  and  when  he  sits  dead  in  the  old  chair,  he 
seems  less  an  individual  than  the  Pyncheon  corpse.  In  the 
long  chapter  which  serves  as  his  requiem,  and  in  which  there 
is  the  suggestion  of  Dickens  not  in  the  best  phase  of  his  art, 


CRITICISM   OF   A   STORY  183 

the  jubilation  is  somewhat  diabolic ;  it  affects  one  as  if 
Hawthorne's  thoughts  were  executing  a  dance  upon  a  grave. 
The  character  is  too  plainly  hated  by  the  author,  and  it  fails 
to  carry  conviction  of  its  veracity,  yet  in  certain  external 
touches  and  aspects  it  suggests  the  hypocrite  who  every- 
where walks  the  streets,  placid,  respectable,  sympathetic  in 
salutations,  but  bearing  within  a  cold,  gross,  cruel,  sensual, 
and  selfish  nature,  which  causes  a  shudder  at  every  casual 
glimpse  that  betrays  its  lurking  hideousness.  The  character 
is  thoroughly  conceived,  but,  being  developed  by  description 
instead  of  action,  seems  overdone." 

—  GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY  :  Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

(b)  "  It  [Hawthorne's  picture  of  New  England  life  in 
The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables']  appeals,  like  life  and  mem- 
ory themselves,  to  the  people  of  that  countryside,  and  goes 
to  their  hearts  like  the  sight  of  home." 

—  GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY  :  Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

(c)  "  The  background,  also,  as  in  the  early  tales,  is  of  the 
slightest  [in  The  Scarlet  Letter~\,  no  more  than  will  suffice 
for  the  acting  of  the  drama  as  a  stage  setting  sympathetic 
with  the  central  scene,  —  a  town,  with  a  prison,  a  meeting- 
house, a  pillory,  a  governor's  house,  other  habitations  on  a 
street,  a  lonely  cottage  by  the  shore,  the  forest  round  about 
all;   and   for   occasion   and    accessories,   only   a   woman's 
sentence,  the   incidental   death  of  Winthrop  unmarked  in 
itself,  a  buccaneering  ship  in  the  harbor,  Indians,  Spanish 
sailors,  rough  matrons,  clergy ;  this  will  serve,  for  such  was 
Hawthorne's  fine  economy,  knowing  that  this  story  was  one  in 
which  every  materialistic  element  must  be  used  at  its  lowest 
tone.     Though  the  scene  lay  in  this  world,  it  was  but  tran- 


1 84  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

sitory  scaffolding ;  the  drama  was   one  of  the  eternal  life." 

—  GEORGE  E.  WOODBERRY  :  Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

(d)  "  It  is  the  flowery  month  of  May ;  the  scent  of  the 
hawthorn  is  in  the  air,  and  the  tender  flush  of  the  new  spring 
suffuses  the  Park,  where  the  tide  of  fashion  and  pleasure  and 
idleness  surges  up  and  down.  The  sauntering  throng,  the 
splendid  equipages,  the  endless  cavalcade  in  Rotten  Row, 
in  which  Clive  descries  afar  off  the  white  plume  of  his  lady- 
love dancing  on  the  waves  of  an  unattainable  society ;  the 
club  windows  are  all  occupied ;  Parliament  is  in  session,  with 
its  nightly  echoes  of  imperial  politics ;  the  thronged  streets 
roar  with  life  from  morn  till  nearly  morn  again ;  the  drawing- 
rooms  hum  and  sparkle  in  the  crush  of  a  London  season ; 
as  you  walk  the  midnight  pavement,  through  the  swinging 
doors  of  the  cider-cellar  comes  the  burst  of  bacchanalian 
song.  Here  is  the  world  of  the  press  and  of  letters ;  here 
are  institutions,  an  army,  a  navy,  commerce,  glimpses  of 
great  ships  going  to  and  fro  on  distant  seas,  of  India,  of 
Australia.  This  one  book  \_The  Newcomes\  is  an  epitome 
of  English  life,  almost  of  the  empire  itself.  We  are  con- 
scious of  all  this,  so  much  breadth  and  atmosphere  has  the 
artist  given  his  little  history  of  half  a  dozen  people  in  this 
struggling  world." 

—  CHARLES  DUDLEY  WARNER  :  The  Relation  of  Litera- 

ture to  Life. 
Copyright,  1896,  by  Harper  and  Brothers. 

7.  In  what  respect  does  Lowell's  treatment  of 
Dante's  great  poem,  in  the  following  passages,  cor- 
respond with  the  method  recommended  in  the  fore- 
going pages  for  the  presentation  of  narrative  ? 


CRITICISM  OF  A   STORY  185 

"  Let  us  consider  briefly  what  was  the  plan  of  the  Divina 
Commedia  and  Dante's  aim  in  writing  it,  which,  if  not  to 
justify,  was  at  least  to  illustrate,  for  warning  and  example, 
the  ways  of  God  to  man.  The  higher  intention  of  the  poem 
was  to  set  forth  the  results  of  sin,  or  unwisdom,  and  of 
virtue,  or  wisdom,  in  this  life,  and  consequently  in  the  life  to 
come,  which  is  but  the  continuation  and  fulfillment  of  this. 
The  scene,  accordingly,  is  the  spiritual  world,  of  which  we  are 
as  truly  denizens  now  as  hereafter.  The  poem  is  a  diary  of 
the  human  soul  in  its  journey  upward  from  error  through 
repentance  to  atonement  with  God.  To  make  it  appre- 
hensible by  those  whom  it  was  meant  to  teach,  nay,  from  its 
very  nature  as  a  poem,  and  not  as  a  treatise  of  abstract 
morality,  it  must  act  forth  everything  by  means  of  sensible 
types  and  images. 

"  *  To  speak  thus  is  adapted  to  your  mind, 

Since  only  through  the  senses  it  apprehendeth 
What  then  it  worthy  makes  of  intellect.'  —  Paradiso. 

"The  Poem  consists  of  three  parts  —  Hell,  Purgatory,  and 
Paradise.  Each  part  is  divided  into  thirty-three  cantos,  in 
allusion  to  the  years  of  the  Savior's  life ;  for  though  the 
Hell  contains  thirty-four,  the  first  canto  is  merely  introductory. 
In  the  form  of  the  verse  (triple  rhyme)  we  may  find  an 
emblem  of  the  Trinity,  and  in  the  three  divisions,  of  the 
threefold  state  of  man — sin,  grace,  and  beatitude.  Symbolic 
meanings  reveal  themselves,  or  make  themselves  suspected, 
everywhere,  as  in  the  architecture  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
******* 

"As  the  Gothic  cathedral,  then,  is  the  type  of  the  Chris- 
tian idea,  so  is  it  also  of  Dante's  poem.  And  as  that 
in  its  artistic  unity  is  but  the  completed  thought  of  a  single 
architect,  which  yet  could  never  have  been  realized  except 


1 86  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

out  of  the  faith  and  by  the  contributions  of  an  entire  people, 
whose  beliefs  and  superstitions,  whose  imagination  and  fancy, 
find  expression  in  its  statues  and  its  carvings,  its  calm  saints 
and  martyrs  now  at  rest  forever  in  the  seclusion  of  their 
canopied  niches,  and  its  wanton  grotesques  thrusting  them- 
selves forth  from  every  pinnacle  and  gargoyle,  so  in  Dante's 
poem,  while  it  is  as  personal  and  peculiar  as  if  it  were  his 
private  journal  and  autobiography,  we  can  yet  read  the  diary 
and  the  autobiography  of  the  thirteenth  century  and  of  the 
Italian  people.  Complete  and  harmonious  in  design  as  his 
work  is,  it  is  yet  no  Pagan  temple  enshrining  a  type  of  the 
human  made  divine  by  triumph  of  corporeal  beauty ;  it  is 
not  a  private  chapel  housing  a  single  saint  and  dedicate  to 
one  chosen  bloom  of  Christian  piety  or  devotion ;  it  is  truly 
a  cathedral,  over  whose  high  altar  hangs  the  emblem  of 
suffering,  of  the  divine  made  human  to  teach  the  beauty  of 
adversity,  the  eternal  presence  of  the  spiritual,  not  over- 
hanging and  threatening,  but  informing  and  sustaining  the 
material.  In  this  cathedral  of  Dante's  there  are  side-chapels, 
as  is  fit,  with  altars  to  all  Christian  virtues  and  perfections ; 
but  the  great  impression  of  its  leading  thought  is  that  of 
aspiration,  forever  and  ever.  In  the  three  divisions  of  the 
poem  we  may  trace  something  more  than  a  fancied  analogy 
with  a  Christian  basilica.  There  is  first  the  ethnic  forecourt, 
then  the  purgatorial  middle  space,  and  last  the  holy  of  holies 
dedicated  to  the, eternal  presence  of  the  mediatorial  God." 

—  JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL:  Dante. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 


CRITICISM  OF   AN  AUTHOR  OR  OF   SEVERAL 
OF   HIS  WORKS 

THE  review  of  a  collection  of  stories  or  essays  is 
a  more  complicated  undertaking  than  the  review  of  a 
single  piece  of  work.  Such  a  review  may  have  the 
unity  that  comes  from  developing  a  number  of  cog- 
nate subjects  with  the  same  spirit  and  intensity. 
One  might  write  upon  the  topics,  the  plots,  the 
themes,  the  characters,  the  setting,  the  style,  of  a 
collection  of  stories  and  develop  the  topics  by  gener- 
alization and  illustration ;  or  if  a  collection  of  essays 
is  the  subject  of  criticism,  the  range  of  subjects,  the 
themes,  the  spirit,  structural  characteristics  and  pecul- 
iarities, and  diction,  might  be  the  topics  for  the  sev- 
eral paragraphs. 

Again  it  is  possible  to  take  some  one  theme  and 
make  that  the  unifying  basis  of  a  review  embracing 
separate  pieces  of  work.  Mr.  Charles  Miner  Thomp- 
son in  a  paper  on  the  short  stories  of  Alice  Brown  in 
Atlantic  Monthly,  July,  1906,  endeavors  to  show  that 
Miss  Brown  does  not  use  her  power  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage because  of  her  failure  to  recognize  her  field. 
He  first  derives  from  her  work  her  theory  of  story- 
writing,  expounds  it,  and  shows  it  to  be  sound.  Then 

187 


1 88  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

he  considers  her  practice,  and  by  presentation  and 
interpretation  shows  that  she  does  not  always  realize 
her  ideal  because  of  her  overvaluation  of  a  limited 
philosophy  and  because  of  her  labored  phrase- 
making  in  her  preferred  but  uncongenial  field  of 
expression.  Having  pointed  out  her  shortcomings 
and  their  cause,  he  then  shows  her  freedom  from 
these  faults,  her  felicity  in  phrasing,  her  truth,  when 
dealing  with  congenial  subject-matter,  her  native  New 
England,  and  gives  general  reasons  why  she  should 
prize  and  cultivate  this  field  rather  than  the  one  she 
evidently  prefers. 

When  you  have  no  theory  of  your  own  to  expound 
concerning  a  series  of  stories  or  essays,  you  will  often 
find  a  unifying  idea  upon  which  to  base  your  criti- 
cism, ready  made  to  your  hand.  Take,  for  example, 
Stevenson's  Memories  and  Portraits:  In  the  intro- 
ductory note  the  author  suggests  that,  taken  together, 
the  papers  build  up  a  face  that  "  '  I  have  loved  long 
since  and  lost  a  while/  the  face  of  what  was  once 
myself. "  To  show  the  Stevenson  at  different  periods 
of  his  youth  as  built  up  directly  and  by  indirection 
from  these  pages,  is  to  give  a  good  idea  of  the  con- 
tent and  character  of  the  book.  Arnold's  definition 
of  criticism,  as  set  down  in  The  Function  of  Criticism 
at  the  Present  Time,  the  leading  essay  of  the  First 
Series  of  Essays  in  Criticism,  offers  a  good  unit  of 
measurement  for  the  other  essays  in  the  collection. 


CRITICISM  OF  AN  AUTHOR  189 

Closely  related  to  the  criticism  of  a  collection  of  a 
writer's  works  is  the  criticism  that  consists  in  a  pres- 
entation and  judgment  of  the  author. 

This  differs  from  other  biographical  exposition, 
mainly  in  the  source  from  which  the  material  is 
taken.  In  all  biographical  exposition  the  critic's  aim 
is  the  same  —  to  get  at  the  personality  of  the  in- 
ventor, the  soldier,  the  artist,  the  author ;  wherever  that 
personality  has  expressed  itself  most  freely  and  sig- 
nificantly, the  critic  must  look  for  the  most  revealing 
material.  It  is  the  free  and  significant  expression  of 
that  personality,  that  has  stamped  the  man  soldier, 
artist,  author.  It  is  therefore  to  his  particular  field 
of  work  that  the  critic  must  usually  look  for  the 
most  convincing  manifestation  of  his  personality.  In 
short,  the  tree  is  known  by  its  fruit.  The  critic 
whose  subject  is  a  man  of  letters  must  then  depend 
mainly  on  the  writer's  books  to  get  at  what  really 
counts  in  the  man's  life  and  character.  But  other 
roads  to  discovery  should  not  be  disregarded  :  the 
impression  drawn  from  the  author's  books  ought  to 
be  strengthened  or  corrected  by  his  manifestations  in 
other  directions. 

To  write  an  appreciation  of  an  author,  then,  knowl- 
edge of  his  writings  is  of  primary  importance,  but 
that  knowledge  should  be  supplemented  by  knowl- 
edge of  his  life.  This  knowledge  of  the  author's 
life  may  enter  into  the  critic's  sketch  little  or  not  at 


LITERARY   CRITICISM 

all ;  to  give  it  a  leading  or  even  an  important  place 
would  be  in  most  cases  a  mistake  —  a  mistake  in  pro- 
portion, by  giving  too  much  emphasis  to  evidence  of 
secondary  importance. 

Walter  Pater  in  his  Appreciation  of  Charles  Lamb 
has  given  us  an  admirably  unified  and  proportioned 
piece  of  criticism.  He  presents  Lamb  as  a  "  sort  of 
visible  interpretation  and  instance  "  of  Humor  as  dis- 
tinct from  Wit  —  not  the  "unreal  and  transitory 
mirth,  which  is  as  the  crackling  of  thorns  under 
the  pot/'  but  the  "  laughter  which  blends  with  tears 
and  even  with  the  sublimities  of  the  imagination,  and 
which  in  its  most  exquisite  motives,  is  one  with  pity." 
He  touches  gently  the  life  of  Lamb  and  shows  these 
contradictory  elements  present  there,  the  deep  tragedy 
under  the  "  blithe  surface."  Most  of  the  essay  is 
taken  up,  however,  with  showing  how  the  literary 
work  of  Lamb,  both  in  substance  and  manner,  is  the 
embodiment  of  humor  in  the  sense  in  which  he  has 
defined  it. 

In  his  life  of  Pater,  Mr.  A.  C.  Benson  says  that  in 
this  essay,  although  Pater  "  puts  aside  certain  broad 
aspects  of  Lamb's  character  as  being  less  congenial 
to  himself,"  one  feels  that  he  "has  seen  the  inner- 
most heart  of  the  man  with  the  insight  that  only 
affection  can  give,  an  insight  which  subtler  and 
harder  critics  seem  to  miss,  even  though  the  picture 
they  draw  is  incontestably  truer  in  detail." 


CRITICISM   OF   AN   AUTHOR  191 

Truth  in  spirit  is  the  indispensable  truth,  but  the 
untried  critic  cannot  hope  to  get  it  in  spite  of  false 
detail.  Truth  both  in  spirit  and  detail  is  the  only 
safe  standard  for  him.  He  must  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  write  a  clever  or  startling  critique  by  working 
up  some  far-fetched  or  freakish  fancy  about  an  author, 
to  which  facts  may  be  made  to  lend  a  certain  plausi- 
bility. He  must  seek  to  know  his  author,  to  read 
him,  and  to  read  about  him  till  he  has  an  opinion 
regarding  him  that  he  feels  to  be  true  and  well 
grounded.  To  give  voice  to  his  own  "  sense  of 
fact"  and  to  win  his  reader's  consenting  " that's 
so,"  are  higher  as  well  as  safer  aims  than  to  be 
novel,  or  unique,  or  original  in  any  sense  that  is  not 
the  result  of  fidelity  to  his  own  impression. 

The  critic  must  first  know  what  his  impression  of 
an  author  is  ;  having  formed  a  distinct  impression  of 
that  personality  and  defined  it  to  his  own  satisfaction, 
he  must  see  that  it  has  a  sufficient  basis.  When  he 
has  selected  whatever  in  the  life,  the  books,  or  the 
comment  of  others,  is  most  responsible  for  his  im- 
pression, he  is  ready  to  arrange  his  material  in  an 
effective  outline  for  a  critical  essay. 

The  preparation  for  such  a  paper  as  the  one  now 
under  consideration  is  the  most  important  part  of 
the  work.  The  reading  must  be  judiciously  done. 
In  most  cases  it  is  impossible  for  a  student  to  read 
all  of  a  writer's  works  thoroughly ;  he  should,  how- 


1 92  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

ever,  read  his  author  as  nearly  "whole"  as  possible. 
He  should  first  glance  through  indexes  and  introduc- 
tions to  all  of  the  author's  books,  to  see  the  character 
and  scope  of  his  work.  Next,  he  should  read  rapidly 
as  many  as  he  can,  summarizing  each  in  his  notebook 
when  he  has  finished  reading  it.  He  should  then  re- 
read carefully  those  works  which  have  seemed  to  him 
most  significant,  analyze  them  to  verify  his  first  im- 
pression, and  outline  them  with  more  or  less  detail, 
as  the  seriousness  of  the  work  demands. 

While  reading,  it  is  well  to  take  brief  notes,  with 
careful  references  to  books  and  pages.  These  notes 
should  be  taken  on  "slip  sheets,"  and  afterward 
classified  in  the  notebook  under  some  general  head- 
ings, such  as  intellectual  characteristics,  emotional 
characteristics,  aesthetic  characteristics,  and  so  on. 
Quotations  are  valuable  if  rightly  used,  but  to  quote 
an  isolated  passage  as  proof  of  a  belief  or  tendency 
in  a  writer,  is  inconclusive  and  unconvincing,  unless 
reenf orced  with  other  evidence.  Detail  should  not 
escape  the  reader,  but  at  the  same  time  he  must  have 
an  eye  on  larger  things, — on  the  author's  tendencies, 
tastes,  method  of  thought.  What  does  he  know? 
What  are  his  interests  ?  Has  he  a  philosophy  ?  What 
is  it  ?  Does  his  intellectual  force  lie  in  his  fine,  keen 
perceptivity,  or  has  he  a  logical  mind  ?  Does  he  sys- 
tematize knowledge  ?  Is  he  more  artist  or  philoso- 
pher? Does  he  draw  inferences  and  expound  theories? 


CRITICISM   OF  AN   AUTHOR  193 

Is  he  dogmatic  or  suggestive  ?  Is  he  cautious  or 
unguarded  ?  Does  he  present  or  does  he  interpret  ? 
Is  he  an  optimist  ?  Is  he  a  pessimist,  or  does  life, 
sad  or  gay,  engage  his  attention  impartially  ?  Does 
his  subject  influence  his  mood,  or  does  his  mood  in- 
fluence his  treatment  of  his  subject  ?  What  does  he 
like  ?  What  does  he  dislike  ?  When  is  he  humorous  ? 
Does  he  make  you  think  ?  Does  he  arouse  your  emo- 
tions ?  What  ideas  does  he  revert  to  ?  To  answer 
such  questions  as  these  —  not  merely  to  cull  striking 
extracts — the  critic  reads  and  takes  notes. 

When  the  student  feels  that  he  knows  his  author, 
as  revealed  through  his  writings,  he  should  go  to  his 
biography  for  further  light  on  his  personality.  All 
books  are  not  equally  valuable  here.  The  biographi- 
cal dictionary  account,  with  its  bare  record  of  facts, 
furnishes  too  slight  a  basis  for  inference.  Journals, 
letters,  autobiographies,  are  usually  rich  in  suggestive 
material.  Full  biographies  are,  of  course,  better  than 
interpretative  biographical  sketches  for  one  who  is 
not  looking  for  conclusions,  but  for  the  facts  upon 
which  to  base  conclusions. 

The  student  should  select  from  the  biography  such 
material  as  he  sees  to  have  some  relation  to  the  de- 
velopment of  the  author's  personality,  and  he  should, 
in  using  it,  so  present  it  as  to  make  that  relation 
evident.  In  writing  an  appreciation  of  Addison,  a 
student  is  not  justified  in  writing  about  the  condition 

EXPOSITION —  13 


IQ4  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

of  society  at  the  time  in  which  he  lived,  simply  be- 
cause it  is  possible  for  him  to  make  a  picturesque 
paragraph  on  that  topic ;  if,  however,  he  can  show 
the  bearing  of  the  life  of  the  times  on  the  writings  of 
Addison,  he  is  fully  justified  in  choosing  this  material. 
Unless  he  sees  that  it  had  some  possible  effect  on 
Ruskin,  the  writer,  why  should  the  would-be  critic 
mention,  in  a  brief  appreciation  of  Ruskin,  the  fact 
that  in  childhood  he  was  required  to  learn  long  pas- 
sages from  the  Bible  ?  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  im- 
portant not  to  omit  what  may  be  necessary  to  an 
understanding  of  the  acts  and  words  of  a  writer. 
Pater  needed  to  speak  of  the  tragedy  in  Lamb's  life ; 
not  because  it  was  startling  and  sensational,  but  be- 
cause it  explained  much.  De  Quincey's  opium  habit 
should  be  mentioned  in  an  interpretative  sketch  of 
that  writer,  not  because  it  is  something  morbid  and 
abnormal,  but,  again,  because  it  explains  much  —  be- 
cause of  what  it  manifests  and  what  it  gives  rise  to. 

The  child  is  often  father  to  the  man,  and  the  early 
years  of  a  man's  life  are,  indeed,  significant ;  but  they 
are  not,  as  the  student  too  often  seems  to  suppose, 
the  only  significant  years.  He  may  seek  to  excuse 
himself  for  the  omission  of  all  mention  of  events  of 
maturity,  on  the  ground  that,  since  he  considers  the 
personality  of  the  writer  as  shown  through  his  books, 
he  is  not  slighting  the  later  years  of  the  writer's  life. 
As  I  have  said,  it  is  right  to  make  the  personality,  as 


CRITICISM   OF  AN  AUTHOR  195 

manifested  in  his  books,  the  chief  concern  of  such  a 
paper.  But  such  events  as  are  given  from  the  life 
should  be  selected  because  of  their  significance. 
There  should  not  be  the  crude  disproportion  of  the 
trivial  incidents  of  childhood  given  in  full,  while  elo- 
quent events  of  manhood  are  ignored. 

When  the  student  has  formed  his  own  opinions, 
he  may  read  criticisms  and  find  out  what  others  have 
thought  and  written  about  his  author.  Here  he 
must  be  careful  to  preserve  his  intellectual  inde- 
pendence and  honesty.  He  must  think  for  himself  ; 
hold  his  own  opinions  where  he  has  reason  to  believe 
he  is  right,  modify  them  where  he  is  made  to  see  that 
he  has  been  wrong,  adopt  as  his  own  no  opinion  that 
he  does  not  understand  and  see  to  be  true,  and  bor- 
row no  words  or  phrases  or  ideas  without  giving 
credit  to  the  one  from  whom  he  takes  them. 

In  studying  an  author  we  read  his  books  first,  his 
life  next,  and  the  opinions  of  critics  last.  In  writing 
we  usually  depart  from  this  order,  showing  first  how 
the  writer's  personality  was  fostered  and  expressed  in 
his  life,  then,  how  it  was  expressed  in  his  books,  and, 
finally,  how  it  was  regarded  by  those  who  knew  him 
either  through  his  life  or  writings.  This  order  is, 
however,  not  inevitable. 

It  is  more  possible  than  might  at  first  be  supposed 
for  a  wide-awake  student  to  get  the  knowledge 
needed  for  such  a  piece  of  criticism,  to  immerse  him- 


196  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

self  as  nearly  as  possible  in  his  subject  for  a  short 
time  with  surprisingly  satisfactory  results.  But  where 
it  seems  impracticable  for  students  to  attempt  a  com- 
plete appreciation,  they  may  find  it  quite  possible  to 
employ  the  methods  just  considered  in  studying  and 
writing  upon  some  particular  phase  of  an  author's 
personality.  Thus  with  an  acquaintance  with  the 
Essays  of  Elia  only,  a  student  might  undertake  to 
justify  the  saying  that  Lamb  was  "  not  the  most-loved 
but  the  best-loved  of  English  essayists,"  showing  how 
he  makes  a  strong  appeal  to  the  discriminating. 
He  might  discuss  Ruskin's  works  in  so  far  as  they 
pertain  to  his  doctrine  — "  Life  without  labor  is 
guilt ;  labor  without  art  is  brutality."  The  optimism 
of  Stevenson,  the  cynicism  of  Thackeray,  the  patriot- 
ism of  Meredith,  are  subjects  that  call  for  study  of 
biography  and  writings.  Such  studies  as  these,  while 
less  satisfying  than  the  final  literary  appreciation, 
have  the  advantage  of  being  less  ambitious.  The 
student  need  make  no  attempt  to  estimate  the  im- 
portance of  the  phase  discussed  —  it  may  or  may  not 
be  a  controlling  element  in  the  author's  personality; 
the  student's  business  is  merely  to  make  clear  its 
nature  and  show  how  it  is  manifest. 

In  the  preface  to  Familiar  Studies  of  Men  and 
Books,  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  presents  in  a  help- 
ful way  the  difficulties  that  beset  the  writer  of  bio- 
graphical sketches.  He  says  :  — 


CRITICISM   OF   AN   AUTHOR  197 

"  The  writer  of  short  studies,  having  to  condense  in  a  few 
pages  the  events  of  a  whole  lifetime,  and  the  effect  on  his 
own  mind  of  many  volumes,  is  bound,  above  all  things,  to 
make  that  condensation  logical  and  striking.     For  the  only 
justification  of  his  writing  at  all  is  that  he  shall  present  a 
brief,  seasoned,  and  memorable  view.     By  the  necessity  of 
the  case,  all  the  more  neutral  circumstances   are   omitted 
from  his  narrative ;  and  that  of  itself,  by  the  negative  exag- 
geration of  which  I  have  spoken  in  the  text,  lends  to  the 
matter  in  hand  a  certain  false  and  specious  glitter.     By  the 
necessity  of  the  case,  again,  he  is  forced  to  view  his  subject 
throughout  in  a  particular  illumination,  like  a  studio  artifice. 
Like  Hales  with  Pepys,  he  must   nearly  break  his   sitter's 
neck  to  get  the  proper  shadows  on  the  portrait.     It  is  from 
one  side  only  that  he  has  time  to  represent  his  subject.     The 
side  selected  will  either  be  the  one  most  striking  to  himself, 
or  the  one   most   obscured   by  controversy;  and   in   both 
cases  that  will   be   the   one   most   liable   to    strained   and 
sophisticated  reading.     In  a  biography  this  and  that  is  dis- 
played; the  hero  is  seen  at  home,  playing  the  flute;  the 
different  tendencies  of  his  work  come,  one  after  another, 
into  notice  ;  and  thus  something  like  a  true,  general  impres- 
sion of  the  subject  may  at  last  be  struck.     But  in  the  short 
study,  the  writer,  having  seized  his  '  point  of  view,'  must 
keep  his  eye  steadily  to  that.     He  seeks,  perhaps,  rather  to 
differentiate,  than  truly  to  characterize.     The  proportion  of 
the  sitter  must  be  sacrificed  to  the  proportions  of  the  por- 
trait ;  the  lights  are  heightened,  the  shadows  overcharged ; 
the  chosen  expression,  continually  forced,  may  degenerate 
at  length  into  a  grimace ;  and  we  have  at  best  something  of 
a  caricature,  at  worst  a  calumny.     Hence,  if  they  be  read- 
able at  all,  the  peculiar  convincing  force  of  these  brief  repre- 


198  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

sentations.  They  take  so  little  a  while  to  read,  and  yet  in 
that  little  while  the  subject  is  so  repeatedly  introduced  in  the 
same  light,  with  the  same  expression,  that  by  sheer  force  of 
repetition,  that  view  is  imposed  upon  the  reader.  The 
two  English  masters  of  the  style,  Macaulay  and  Carlyle, 
largely  exemplify  its  dangers.  Carlyle,  indeed,  had  so  much 
more  depth  and  knowledge  of  the  heart,  his  portraits  of 
mankind  are  felt  and  rendered  with  so  much  more  poetic 
comprehension,  and  he,  like  his  favorite  Ram  Dass,  had  a 
fire  in  his  belly  so  much  more  hotly  burning  than  the  patent 
reading  lamp  by  which  Macaulay  studied,  that  it  seems  at 
first  sight  hardly  fair  to  bracket  them  together.  But  the 
'  point  of  view '  was  imposed  by  Carlyle  on  the  men  he 
judged  of  in  his  writings  with  an  austerity  not  only  cruel, 
but  almost  stupid.  They  are  too  often  broken  outright 
on  the  Procrustean  bed ;  the  rhetorical  artifice  of  Macaulay 
is  easily  spied ;  it  will  take  longer  to  appreciate  the  moral 
bias  of  Carlyle.  So  with  all  writers  who  insist  on  forcing 
some  significance  from  all  that  comes  before  them ;  and  the 
writer  of  short  studies  is  bound,  by  the  necessity  of  the  case, 
to  write  entirely  in  that  spirit.  What  he  cannot  vivify  he 
should  omit." 

— ROBERT  Louis  STEVENSON:  Familiar  Studies  of  Men 
and  Books.         By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 

The  numberless  opportunities  for  comparing  and 
contrasting  authors  and  their  works,  widen  the  ho- 
rizon of  literary  criticism.  Indeed,  the  possibilities  in 
this  field  of  writing  are  almost  limitless,  but  the  stu- 
dent who  is  able  to  do  well  the  types  of  criticism  al- 
ready considered  has  a  firm  basis  upon  which  to  build 
more  complex  forms  of  criticism. 


CRITICISM    OF   AN   AUTHOR  199 

EXERCISES 

i.  This  exercise  assumes  an  acquaintance  with 
the  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  Papers :  — 

a.  Read  the  fourth  of  the  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley 
Papers  (Spectator  No.    34)   and   find   the   object  of 
this  series  of  papers.     State  it. 

b.  Amplify  your  statement  in  a  general  way,  telling 
what  Addison  and  Steele  did  not  seek  to  do,  and  show- 
ing how  they  differed  in  their  attitude  toward  human 
imperfections   from   more  rigorous   reformers,   such 
as  Carlyle;  take  the  following  paragraph  from  Ma- 
caulay  on  the  philosophy  of  Sir  Francis  Bacon  as  a 
model  for  treatment.     (Your  paragraph  might  begin, 
"To  make  men  heroes  was  not  the  purpose  of  the 
writers  of  the  De  Coverley  Papers"} 

"  To  make  men  perfect  was  no  part  of  Bacon's  plan.  His 
humble  aim  was  to  make  imperfect  men  comfortable.  The 
beneficence  of  his  philosophy  resembled  the  beneficence 
of  the  common  Father,  whose  sun  rises  on  the  evil  and  on 
the  good,  whose  rain  descends  for  the  just  and  the  unjust. 
In  Plato's  opinion  man  was  made  for  philosophy ;  in  Bacon's 
opinion  philosophy  was  made  for  man ;  it  was  a  means  to 
an  end ;  and  that  end  was  to  increase  the  pleasures  and  to 
mitigate  the  pains  of  millions  who  are  not  and  cannot  be 
philosophers.  That  a  valetudinarian  who  took  great  pleas- 
ure in  being  wheeled  along  his  terrace,  who  relished  his 
boiled  chicken  and  his  weak  wine  and  water,  and  who  en- 
joyed a  hearty  laugh  over  the  Queen  of  Navarre's  tales, 
should  be  treated  as  a  caput  lupinum  because  he  could  not 


200  LITERARY  CRITICISM 

read  the  Timseus  without  a  headache,  was  a  notion  which 
the  humane  spirit  of  the  English  school  of  wisdom  altogether 
rejected.  Bacon  would  not  have  thought  it  beneath  the 
dignity  of  a  philosopher  to  contrive  an  improved  garden 
chair  for  such  a  valetudinarian,  to  devise  some  way  of  ren- 
dering his  medicines  more  palatable,  to  invent  repasts  which 
he  might  enjoy,  and  pillows  on  which  he  might  sleep 
soundly  \  and  this,  though  there  might  not  be  the  smallest 
hope  that  the  mind  of  the  poor  invalid  would  ever  rise  to 
the  contemplation  of  the  ideal  beautiful  and  the  ideal  good." 
—  LORD  MACAULAY  :  Lord  Bacon. 

c.  Give  a  specific  account  of  the  content  of  the 
papers  of  the  series  by  recapitulating  with  suggestive 
comment,  the   foibles   considered,  somewhat  in   the 
manner  of  Hazlitt  in  the  paragraph  quoted  in  a  fore- 
going chapter. 

d.  In  the  following  paragraph  Macaulay  treats  of 
the   resourcefulness    and  variety   of   Addison.      He 
develops  his  theme  first,  by  assertion ;  secondly,  by 
figure ;  thirdly,  by  striking   instances.      Follow   the 
same  plan  in  developing  a  paragraph  on  the  theme : 
the  criticism  in  the   De   Coverley  Papers  is   always 
kindly  in  spirit. 

"  His  best  essays  approach  near  to  absolute  perfection ; 
nor  is  their  excellence  more  wonderful  than  their  variety. 
His  invention  never  seems  to  flag ;  nor  is  he  ever  under  the 
necessity  of  repeating  himself,  or  of  wearing  out  a  subject. 
There  are  no  dregs  in  his  wine.  He  regales  us  after  the 
fashion  of  that  prodigal  nabob  who  held  that  there  was  only 
one  good  glass  in  a  bottle.  As  soon  as  we  have  tasted  the 


CRITICISM  OF  AN  AUTHOR  2OI 

first  sparkling  foam  of  a  jest,  it  is  withdrawn,  and  a  fresh 
draught  of  nectar  is  at  our  lips.  On  the  Monday  we  have 
an  allegory  as  lively  and  ingenious  as  Lucian's  Auction  of 
Lives;  on  the  Tuesday  an  Eastern  apologue,  as  richly 
colored  as  the  tales  of  Scheherazade ;  on  the  Wednesday, 
a  character  described  with  the  skill  of  La  Bruyere ;  on  the 
Thursday,  a  scene  from  common  life,  equal  to  the  best 
chapters  in  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield ;  on  the  Friday,  some 
sly  Horatian  pleasantry  on  fashionable  follies,  on  hoops, 
patches,  or  puppet  shows ;  and  on  the  Saturday  a  religious 
meditation,  which  will  bear  a  comparison  with  the  finest 
passages  in  Massillon." 

—  LORD  MACAULAY  :  Life  and  Writings  of  Addis  on. 

e.  Write  a  paragraph  on  the  effect  of  the  Sir  Roger 
de  Coverley  Papers  on  the  reader,  taking  yourself  as 
a  typical  reader  and  basing  your  comment  on  your 
own  experience  in  reading  the  papers. 

2.  If  the  following  paragraph  is  true,  what  propor- 
tion should  exist  between  the  manifestation  of  per- 
sonality through  the  written  work  and  through  the 
deeds  and  sayings  of  the  man,  in  an  appreciation  of 
Samuel  Johnson  ?  Why  ? 

"  But,  though  the  celebrity  of  the  writings  may  have  de- 
clined, the  celebrity  of  the  writer,  strange  to  say,  is  as  great 
as  ever.  BoswelFs  book  has  done  for  him  more  than  the 
best  of  his  own  books  could  do.  The  memory  of  other 
authors  is  kept  alive  by  their  works.  But  the  memory  of 
Johnson  keeps  many  of  his  works  alive.  The  old  philoso- 
pher is  still  among  us  in  the  brown  coat  with  the  metal 
buttons  and  the  shirt  which  ought  to  be  at  wash,  blinking, 


202  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

puffing,  rolling  his  head,  drumming  with  his  fingers,  tearing 
his  meat  like  a  tiger,  and  swallowing  his  tea  in  oceans.  No 
human  being  who  has  been  more  than  seventy  years  in  the 
grave  is  so  well  known  to  us.  And  it  is  but  just  to  say  that 
our  intimate  acquaintance  with  what  he  would  himself  have 
called  the  anfractuosities  of  his  intellect  and  of  his  temper 
serves  only  to  strengthen  our  conviction  that  he  was  both 
a  great  and  a  good  man." 

—  LORD  MACAULAY:  Samuel  Johnson. 

3.  Use  the  following  two  passages  as  models  in 
respect  to  purpose  and  method  for  two  paragraphs 
of  original  criticism  :  — 

"We  have  inherited  traits  of  the  savage,  we  delight  in 
crimson  and  sounding  brass,  in  soldiers  and  gypsies,  nor  can 
we  conceal,  if  we  would,  another  and  nearer  ancestry,  '  The 
child  is  father  to  the  man ' :  the  laws  of  childhood  govern 
us  still,  and  it  is  to  this  common  nature  of  Child  and  Man 
that  Scott  appeals  so  strongly. 

" '  Sound,  sound  the  clarion,  fill  the  fife ! 

To  all  the  sensual  world  proclaim, 
One  crowded  hour  of  glorious  life 
Is  worth  an  age  without  a  name.' 

Scott  was  a  master  of  the  domain  of  simple  theatrical  drama. 
What  is  there  more  effective  than  his  bravado  scenes,  which 
we  watch  with  that  secret  sympathy  for  bragging  with  which 
we  used  to  watch  the  big  boys  at  school,  for  we  know  that 
the  biggest  words  will  be  seconded  by  deeds.  '  Touch 
Ralph  de  Vipont's  shield  —  touch  the  Hospitaller's  shield ; 
he  is  your  cheapest  bargain.'  'Who  has  dared,'  said 
Richard,  laying  his  hands  upon  the  Austrian  standard,  ( who 


CRITICISM   OF  AN  AUTHOR  203 

has  dared  to  place  this  paltry  rag  beside  the  banner  of  Eng- 
land ? '     '  Die,    bloodthirsty   dog  ! '    said  Balfour,   '  die   as 
thou  hast  lived  !  die,  like  the  beasts  that  perish  —  hoping 
nothing  —  believing    nothing  '  — '  And    fearing    nothing  ! ' 
said  Both  well/     These  and  a  hundred  such  passages  are 
very  simple,  but  simple  with  a  simplicity  not  easy  to  attain ; 
they  touch  the  young  barbarian  in  us  to  the  quick." 
—  HENRY  DWIGHT  SEDGWICK,  JR.  :  Essays  on  Great  Writers. 
By  permission  of  Houghton,  Mifflin  and  Company. 

"Nowhere  in  English  prose  is  there  such  inexpressible  beauty 
of  description.  Ever  modulating  and  changing  as  the  theme 
grows  gay  or  sad,  it  plays  over  the  whole  like  music.  Song 
and  accompaniment  are  not  more  closely  welded.  And 
with  this  sense  of  sound,  you  never  lose  a  sense  of  acute 
vision.  You  see  not  only  the  great  moor  through  recurrent 
seasons,  but  cottages,  thresholds,  angles  of  chimneys,  the 
pools,  those  bonfires  illumining  many  hilltops  above  the 
dark  basin  of  heath,  till  the  heathmen  seem  to  be  standing 
'  in  some  radiant  upper  story  of  the  world.'  And  the  heath 
at  night !  '  Then  it  became  the  home  of  strange  phantoms ; 
and  was  found  to  be  the  hitherto  unrecognized  original  of 
those  wild  regions  of  obscurity  which  are  vaguely  felt  to  be 
compassing  us  about  in  midnight  dreams  of  flight  and  dis- 
aster, and  are  never  thought  of  after  the  dream,  till  revived 
by  scenes  like  this.'  The  whole  first  chapter  is  like  the 
opening  adagio  of  a  great  symphony.  Read  this  passage 
at  midday  in  a  landscape  of  vernal  efflorescence,  and  the 
still  relentless  gloom  of  Egdon  will  darken  your  very  soul. 
How  to  accomplish  this  is  Mr.  Hardy's  secret.  The  Return 
of  the  Native  is  too  close-knit  for  the  stitch  to  reveal  itself. 
Read  and  reread  it,  each  time  you  are  so  swept  along  that 
you  fail  to  pause  and  scrutinize  the  method.  You  are  pos- 


204  LITERARY   CRITICISM 

sessed  by  its  beauty  and  sadness ;  you  lose  all  wish  to  know 
through  what  mechanism  such  effects  are  produced." 

—  MARY  Moss  :  The  Novels  of  Thomas  Hardy. 

4.  Read  the  following  characterizations,  and  from 
them  derive  a  theme  for  an  appreciation  of  Byron, 
Wordsworth,  Stevenson.  State  the  theme  for  each 
and  suggest  methods  for  its  development. 

(a)  "Such  was  Byron's  personality,  by  which  'he  is  different 
from  all  the  rest  of  English  poets,  and  in  the  main  greater/ 
But  he  posed  all  his  life,  says  M.  Scherer.  Let  us  distin- 
guish. There  is  the  Byron  who  posed,  there  is  the  Byron 
with  his  affectations  and  silliness,  the  Byron  whose  weakness 
Lady  Blessington,  with  a  woman's  acuteness,  so  admirably 
seized  :  '  His  great  defect  is  flippancy  and  a  total  want  of 
self-possession.'  But  when  this  theatrical  and  easily  criticised 
personage  betook  himself  to  poetry,  and  when  he  had  fairly 
warmed  to  his  work,  then  he  became  another  man  ;  then  the 
theatrical  personage  passed  away ;  then  a  higher  power  took 
possession  of  him  and  filled  him;  then  at  last  came  forth 
into  light  that  true  and  puissant  personality,  with  its  direct 
strokes,  its  ever-welling  force,  its  satire,  its  energy,  and  its 
agony.  This  is  the  real  Byron ;  whoever  stops  at  the  the- 
atrical preludings  does  not  know  him.  And  this  real  Byron 
may  well  be  superior  to  the  stricken  Leopardi ;  he  may  well 
be  declared  '  different  from  all  the  rest  of  English  poets  and 
in  the  main  greater ' ;  in  so  far  as  it  is  true  of  him,  as  M. 
Taine  well  says,  that '  all  other  souls,  in  comparison  with  his, 
seem  inert ' ;  in  so  far  as  it  is  true  of  him  that  with  superb, 
exhaustless  energy  he  maintained,  as  Professor  Nichol  well 
says,  'the  struggle  that  keeps  alive,  if  it  does  not  save,  the 
soul ' ;  in  so  far,  finally,  as  he  deserves  (and  he  does  deserve) 


CRITICISM   OF  AN  AUTHOR  205 

the  noble  praise  of  him  which  I  have  already  quoted  from 
Mr.  Swinburne ;  the  praise  for  '  the  splendid  and  imperish- 
able excellence  which  covers  all  his  offenses  and  outweighs 
all  his  defects  :  the  excellence  of  sincerity  and  strength? 

*****  =&  * 

"  Even  of  his  passionate  admirers,  how  many  never  get  be- 
yond the  theatrical  Byron,  from  whom  they  caught  the  fash- 
ion of  deranging  their  hair,  or  of  knotting  their  neck-hand- 
kerchief, or  of  leaving  their  shirt -collar  unbuttoned ;  how 
few  profoundly  felt  his  vital  influence,  the  influence  of 
his  splendid  and  imperishable  excellence  of  sincerity  and 
strength."  —  MATTHEW  ARNOLD  :  Byron. 

(b)  "  It  [Wordsworth's  superiority]  is  in  the  power  with 
which  Wordsworth  feels  the  resources  of  joy  offered  to  us  in 
nature,  offered  to  us  in  the  primary  human  affections  and 
duties,  and  in  the  power  with  which,  in  his  moments  of  in- 
spiration he  renders  this  joy,  and  makes  us,  too,  feel  it ;  a 
force  greater  than  himself  seeming  to  lift  him  and  to  prompt 
his  tongue,  so  that  he  speaks  in  a  style  far  above  any  style 
of  which  he  has  the  constant  command,  and  with  a  truth  far 
beyond  any  philosophic  truth  of  which  he  has  the  conscious 
and  assured  possession.  .  .  . 

"Wordsworth's  value  is  of  another  kind.  Wordsworth  has 
an  insight  into  permanent  sources  of  joy  and  consolation 
for  mankind  which  Byron  has  not ;  his  poetry  gives  us  more 
that  we  may  rest  upon  than  Byron's  —  more  which  we  can 
rest  upon  now,  and  which  men  may  rest  upon  always." 

—  MATTHEW  ARNOLD  :  Byron. 

(c)  "  In  Stevenson's  implicit  philosophy  a  formulated  atti- 
tude would  be  too  much  like  attitudinizing ;  too  self-conscious 
and  put  on ;  too  much  sicklied  o'er  with  the  uneasy  intro- 


206  LITERARY    CRITICISM 

spectiveness  of  the  tired  century.  Enough  of  posing  and  ir- 
resolution outside  the  arena  of  life ;  such  we  may  be  sure 
was  his  thought  as  he  listened  to  the  utterances  that  came 
surging  up  to  him  from  the  inner  heart  of  his  time.  And 
so  what  he  represents  first  and  wholesomest  of  all,  what 
most  gives  him  power  on  his  age,  is  the  robust  reaction 
against  all  this,  which  breathes  like  an  ozone  through  every 
page  of  his  writings.  Not  that  this  reaction  is  overt,  or  that 
he  takes  it  upon  himself  to  set  up  a  protest.  One  great 
element  of  his  power,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  entire  absence 
of  remonstrance,  or  of  anything  merely  negative  or  repres- 
sive. He  simply  ignores  that  benumbing  arriere  pensee, 
which  for  full  half  a  century  has  so  beset  the  faith  of  the 
world,  and  dares  to  take  life  at  its  positive  intrinsic  value, 
without  the  disquiet  of  morbid  analysis.  That  is  all;  his 
'attitude'  is  merely  the  free,  joyous  erectness  of  the  undis- 
mayed soul. 

******* 

"  He  had  not  to  think  of  self,  but  to  be ;  not  to  cipher  out 
an  attitude  to  life,  but  to  live ;  not  even  to  appoint  himself 
a  missionary  of  the  doctrine  of  happiness  to  other  men,  like 
those  actors  who  posture  and  snigger  in  order  to  raise  a 
laugh,  but  simply  to  be  happy  and  make  that  happiness,  with 
its  solid  glow  of  heat,  its  own  excuse  for  being.  Such  hap- 
piness is  contagious  ;  it  needs  no  bolstering  of  propaganda  : 
it  awakens  echoes ;  it  calls  out  responsive  cheer  by  its  mere 
self- evidencing  wholesomeness. 

"This  happiness  in  Stevenson  was  more  than  tempera- 
mental ;  it  had  based  itself  in  the  wise  and  penetrative 
spirit.  Nor  was  it  any  shallow  evasion  of  the  deeps  of  life ; 
it  was  at  polar  remove  from  the  mere  physical  well- being  of 
a  gourmand,  or  the  glee  of  an  empty-headed  dancer.  It 


CRITICISM   OF  AN   AUTHOR  2O/ 

had  made  itself  good  against  too  much  ill  health  for  that ; 
and  underlying  it  were  centuries  of  digested  thought  and 
doctrine.  An  efflorescence,  a  fruitage  it  truly  was,  culminat- 
ing from  profound  strains  of  vital  meditation.  .  .  . 

"To  quote  passages  that  give  inculcation  and  definition  to 
this  would  be  little  representative,  either  as  to  bulk  or  as  to 
wording,  of  its  vital  importance  in  Stevenson's  body  of 
thought ;  to  quote  passages  wherein  this  is  the  atmosphere 
and  presupposition,  making  itself  felt  as  a  pulsation,  a  flavor, 
a  tonic,  beyond  the  crudeness  of  words,  would  be  to  quote 
well-nigh  all  that  he  ever  wrote..  There  is  a  sacredness  about 
it,  a  holiness  as  cherished  ideal  and  due,  which  makes  it 
more  fitly  a  subject  of  prayer  than  of  dissertation.  You 
remember  that  striking  prayer  of  his  verse,  entitled  The 
Celestial  Surgeon;  one  cannot  help  thinking  the  whole 
current  of  Stevenson's  aspiration  flowed  through  that :  — 

" '  If  I  have  faltered  more  or  less 
In  my  great  task  of  happiness; 
If  I  have  moved  among  my  race 
And  shown  no  glorious  morning  face; 
If  beams  from  happy  human  eyes 
Have  moved  me  not ;   if  morning  skies, 
Books,  and  my  food,  and  summer  rain 
Knocked  on  my  sullen  heart  in  vain :  — 
Lord,  thy  most  pointed  pleasure  take 
And  stab  my  spirit  broad  awake  ; 
Or,  Lord,  if  too  obdurate  I, 
Choose  thou,  before  that  spirit  die, 
A  piercing  pain,  a  killing  sin, 
And  to  my  dead  heart  run  them  in  ! '  " 
—  JOHN  F.  GENUNG,  Stevenson's  Attitude  to  Life. 
By  permission  of  Thomas  Y.  Crowell  and  Company. 

5.   Write  an  "  appreciation  "  of  your  favorite  author. 


INDEX 


Abstract  subjects,  presentation  of, 

83- 

Abstract  terms,  in  exposition,  15. 

Accuracy  of  observation,  83. 

Addison,  Macaulay  on,  201. 

After  the  War,  Hearn,  92. 

ALDRICH,  T.  B.,  Ponkapog  Papers, 
115. 

ALEXANDER,  HARTLEY  BURR,  Po- 
etry and  the  Individual,  48. 

ALLINGHAM,  WILLIAM,  verses  by, 

134. 

Amazing  Marriage,  Meredith,  131. 
American    Animals,    Stone    and 

Cram,  81. 
American  Food  and  Game  Fishes, 

Jordan  and  Evermann,  91. 
Ammophila,  24. 
Analysis,  50-76. 
Exhaustive,  50. 
Incomplete,  51. 
Manifestation  of,  in  completed 

work,  64-76. 
Order  of,  57. 
Preliminary,  50-64. 
Relation  of  summary  to,  52. 
Andersen,  Hans  Christian,  86. 
ANDREWS,  JANE,  Seven  Little  Sis- 
ters, 129. 
Ten  Boys,  129. 


Anna  Karenina,  150. 

Appreciation  of  an  author,  knowl- 
edge required  for,  189. 
Reading  for,  191. 

ARCHER,   WILLIAM,   Poets   of  the 
Younger  Generation,  157. 

Arnold,   Matthew,  description  of, 

29. 

References  to  Essays  in  Criti- 
cism, 41,  42,  43,  73,  118,  139, 
141,  150,  153,  1 88,  204. 

Arnold's    View  of  Emerson   and 
Carlyle,  Burroughs,  142. 

Art  for  Art's   Sake,   J.   C.    Van 
Dyke,  22,  72. 

Aspects  of  Fiction,  Matthews,  161, 
1 80. 

Audience,  consideration  of,  86. 

Authorities,  use  of,  195. 

Authors,  study  of,  191-193,  195. 

Autobiography,  Besant,  179,  181. 

Autobiography    of   a   Journalist, 
Stillman,  159. 

Automobile,  116. 

Aylwin,  Watts-Dunton,  20,  21,  27. 

B 

Bacchus,  115. 

Bacon,   Sir   Francis,  characteriza- 
tion of,  199. 
References  to  works  of,  38,  43. 


EXPOSITION  —  14 


209 


210 


INDEX 


BAGEHOT,  WALTER,  Estimates  of 
Englishmen  and  Scotchmen, 

156. 

Beauchamp's  Career,  149. 

BENSON,  A.  C.,Life  of  Pater,  190. 

BESANT,  SIR  WALTER,  Autobiogra- 
phy, 179,  181. 

Biographical  sketches,  Stevenson 
on,  197-198. 

Biography,  subjects  for  interpreta- 
tive studies  in,  108. 

Black  Beauty,  128. 

Bluebird  Tenants,  Hubbard,  93. 

Books  for  criticism,  choice  of,  140. 

BOSWELL,  Life  of  Johnson,  94. 

Bowen,  Edward,  132. 

Brakemen,  G.  S.  Lee  on,  115. 

BROOKFIELD,  CHARLES  and  FRAN- 
CES, Mrs.  Brookfield  and  her 
Circle,  28. 

Brown,  Alice,  criticism  of  stories 
of,  187. 

BROWNING,  ROBERT,  Caliban,  17. 

BRYCE,  JAMES,  Studies  in  Contem- 
porary Biography,  131. 

BURROUGHS,  JOHN,  Indoor  Studies, 
29,  142,  144. 

Byron,  Lord,  Arnold  on,  204. 


Caliban,  Browning,  17. 
Carlyle,   Jane   Welsh,   28. 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  style  of,  148, 149. 
CARLYLE,   THOMAS,    Heroes    and 

Hero  Worship,  98. 
Carlyle,  Thoreau,  148. 
Channing,  William  Ellery,  37. 


Charity,  40. 

Chelkash,  Maxim  Gorky,  29. 

Chester,  102. 

CHESTERTON,  G.  K.,  Heretics,  28, 

47- 

Napoleon  of  Notting  Hill,  26. 
Christmas  Carol,  Dickens,  175. 
City,  described  by  Hearn,  134. 
Civic  Development,  Zueblin,  75. 
Classification  by  type,  35. 

Inexact,  36. 

Paradoxical,  36. 

Substitute  for  definition,  36. 
Clerk  of  the  Woods,  Torrey,  25. 
Compensation,  Emerson,  74. 
Complete  Angler,  Izaak  Walton,  65. 
Conclusions,  70. 
Concrete  criticism,  122. 
Concrete  phrasing,  106. 
Concrete  terms  in  exposition,  15. 
Conrad,  Joseph,  147. 
Copley  Square,  75. 
Coventry  Patmore,  Gosse,  146. 
Creation,  Browning,  17. 

Genesis,  16. 
Criticism,  definition  of,  145. 

Field  of,  198. 

Figurative,  149. 

Literary,  139-207. 

Notes  for,  192. 

Of  a  collection  of  works,  187. 

Of  an  author,  187-207. 

Of  a  story,  168-186. 

Of  stories  of  Alice  Brown,  187. 

Reading  for,  193. 

Truth  of  spirit  in,  190. 

Use  of  biography  in,  193. 


INDEX 


211 


DANIELS,  W.  M.,  criticism  of  Himt- 

er's  Poverty,  146. 
Dante,  Carlyle's  description  of,  98. 

Lowell's  criticism  of  his  work, 

185-186. 
De  Coverley,  Sir  Roger,  exercise 

on,  199. 

DE  QUINCEY,  Macbeth,  162. 
Decade  of  Civic  Development,  Zueb- 

lin,  75. 
Definition,  33-49. 

Approximate,  36,  37. 

Broad,  41. 

By  comparison,  38. 

By  denial,  37. 

By  denial  and  affirmation,  37. 

Contrasted  with  analysis,  33. 

Exact,  34. 

Gradual  development  to  perfect, 
41. 

Narrow,  41. 

Of  literary  criticism,  145. 

Of  terms  for  criticism,  43. 

Requirements  of,  41. 

Scientific,  35. 
Democracy,  28. 
DICKENS,  Christmas  Carol,  175. 

Hard  Times,  124,  125. 
Divina  Commedia,  185,  186. 
Divine  Fire,  168,  169. 
Divisions,  announcement  of,  in  in- 
troduction, 66. 

Declaration  of,  65. 

Enumeration  of,  in  conclusion, 
70. 


Exhaustive,  50. 

Overlapping,  55. 

Purpose  of,  66. 

Requirements  of,  54. 

Scientific,  50. 

Transitions  between,  69. 
Double  Garden,  Maeterlinck,  116- 

118. 

DYE,  CHARITY,  Letters  and  Letter- 
writing,  157. 

E 

Editorial  for  school  paper,  108. 
Elia,  Essays  of,  196. 
Eliot,  George,  155,  169,  170. 
Emerson,  Arnold's  estimate  of,  142. 

References  to,  39,  43,  73,  74. 
Essay  sin  Criticism,  Arnold,  118. 
Essays   on    Great  Writers,  Sedg- 

wick,  202. 

Estelle  Ann  Lewis,  Poe,  161. 
Estimates     of    Englishmen     and 

Scotchmen,  Bagehot,  156. 
EVERMANN,  BARTON  W.,  Ameri- 
can Food  and  Game  Fishes,  91. 
Evolution  defined,  33. 
Exposition,    dealing     with     indi- 
vidual, 14,  15. 

Dealing  with  type,  13,  14. 

Distinguished  from  other  forms 
of  discourse,  18,  19,  20. 

Function  of,  77-136. 

Kind  of  terms,  15. 

Method,  20. 

Nature  of,  11-30. 

Negative  definition  of,  13. 

Processes  of,  31-76. 


212 


INDEX 


Exposition  (continued}  — 
Purpose  of,  19. 
Subject-matter  of,  13,  15. 
Subordination  to  other  forms  of 

discourse,  18. 
Supplemented  by  other  forms  of 

discourse,  19. 


Family,  Chesterton  on  the,  47. 
Figurative  criticism,  149. 
Fireflies,  87-90. 

Flinty  Point,  descriptions  of,  20,  21. 
Flittermousc,  Rives,  131. 
Foreigner  at  Home,  Stevenson,  61. 
"  Four  ducks  on  a  pond,"  134. 
FRANCKE,  KUNO,    The  Study  of 

National  Culture,  67. 
Function  of  Criticism,  Arnold,  141. 
Function  of  exposition,  77-136. 
Future  in  America,  H.  G.  Wells, 

49- 

G 

Genesis,  creation,  16. 

Genius   of  Japanese   Civilization, 
Hearn,  134.  , 

Gentleman,  103. 

GENUNG,  JOHN  F.,  Stevenson's  Atti- 
tude to  Life,  205-207. 

Gleaners,  116. 

GORKY,  MAXIM,  Chelkash,  29. 

GOSSE,    EDMUND,    Coventry  Pat- 
more,  113. 
On  Ibsen's  plays,  146. 

Gradgrind,  Mr.,  124. 

Gray,  Thomas,  Arnold  on,  73. 


H 

Hard  Times,  Dickens,  124,  125. 
Hardy,  Thomas,  203. 
Hawthorne,     Nathaniel,     Wood- 
berry  on,  183. 
HAZLITT,  on  Johnson,  149. 

On  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  172. 
HEARN,  LAFCADIO,  After  the  War, 

92. 
Genius  of  Japanese  Civilization, 

134- 
Kotto,  87-90. 

Heretics,  Chesterton,  28,  47. 

Heroes   and  Hero    Worship,  Car- 
lyle,  98. 

HERRICK,  Web  of  Life,  169. 

House  of  the  Seven  Gables,  182. 

HUBBARD,  M.  E.,  Bluebird  Ten- 
ants, 93. 

Humble  Remonstrance,  A,  Steven- 
son, 73. 

Humility,  Cardinal  Newman,  44. 

Hunter,  Robert,  42,  146. 

HUXLEY,   THOMAS    HENRY,    Lay 
Sermons,  26,  35,  91. 


Ibsen's  plays,  146. 

Idea  of  a  University,  Newman, 
109-112. 

Imagination,  defined  by  H.  B.  Alex- 
ander, 48. 

In  the  Days  of  the  Comet,  Wells, 
126-128. 

Individual  object  as  subject  of 
exposition,  14,  15. 


INDEX 


2I3 


Indoor  Studies,  Burroughs,  29. 
Interpretation,  96-121. 

Applied  in  biography,  97. 

Applied  to  class  of  objects,  103. 

Applied    to    particular    objects, 

97- 

Applied  to  places,  101. 
Danger  of,  102. 
Of  abstract  subject,  105. 
Purpose  of,  96. 
Requirements  of,  96. 
Requirements  of  abstract  inter- 
pretation, 105. 
Subject-matter  for,  97. 
Subordination  of  facts  to,  97. 
To  supplement  presentation,  130. 
Interpretative    Presentation,    122- 

136. 

Applied  to  process,  126-128. 

By  narration,  1 26. 

Dangers  of,  in  narration,  129. 

Definition  of,  122. 

Examples  of,  122,  124,  125,  126. 


Jacobs  Dream,  Rembrandt,  1 14. 
JAMES,  HENRY,  Roderick  Hudson, 

21. 

What  Masie  Knew,  169. 
Johnson,  BoswelPs  Life  of,  94. 
Macaulay's   characterization  of, 

201. 
JORDAN,  DAVID  STARR,  American 

Food  and  Game  Fishes,  91. 
Journal,  Thoreau,  148. 
Judicial  criticism,  its  place,  143. 
Jungle,  The,  Upton  Sinclair,  130. 


K 
Kipling,  Archer's  characterization 

of,  157- 

Knowledge    and  Religioiis   Duty, 

Cardinal  Newman,  44,  103. 
Kotto,  Hearn,  87-90. 


Lamb,  Charles,  Pater's  essay  on, 

38,  145,  146,  190. 
LAMB,  CHARLES,  Poor  Relations,  39. 
Lay  Sermons,  Huxley,  26,  35,  91. 
LEE,  GERALD  STANLEY,  Poetry  of 

a  Machine  Age,  116. 
Lewis,  Estelle  Ann,  161. 
Life  and  Writings  of  Addison, 

Macaulay,  205. 
Life  of  Johnson,  Boswell,  94. 
Life  of  Pater,  Benson,  190. 
Literary  criticism,  139-207. 

Attitude  of  critic  to  subject,  140. 
Choice  of  book  for,  139. 
Field  of,  198. 
Generalization  in,  144. 
Presentation  in,  141. 
Relation    of   presentation    and 

interpretation  in,  140. 
Requirements  of,  139-169. 
Sincerity  in,  155. 
Substance  of,  140. 
Tone  of,  151. 
Loach,  Izaak  Walton,  65. 

Outline  on,  58,  59. 
LONG,  WILLIAM  J.,  School  of  the 

Woods,  13. 
Lord   Ormont  and  his    Aminta, 
Meredith,  132. 


214 


INDEX 


Lowell,   characterization   of,    158, 

*59- 

LOWELL,  J.  R.,  Dante,  186. 
Letters  of,  114. 
Spenser,  155. 

M 

Macaulay,  Bagehot's  estimate  of, 


MACAULAY,  Addison,  201. 

Lord  Bacon,  199. 

Samuel  Johnson,  201. 
Macbeth,  De  Quincey,  162. 
Macleod,  Fiona,  87. 
MACPHERSON,  Ossian,  22. 
MACY,  JOHN  ALBERT,  on  Joseph 

Conrad,  147. 
MAETERLINCK,     MAURICE,      The 

Double  Garden,  116-118. 
Mahomet,  99-100. 
Mammalia,  definition  of,  35. 
Man  and  Superman,  Shaw,  45. 
Marius     the    Epicurean,     Pater, 

122. 

MATTHEWS,  BRANDER,  Aspects  of 

Fiction,  1  6  1,  180. 
Memories  and  Portraits,  Steven- 

son, 1  88. 
Merchant  of  Venice,  Shakespeare, 

47- 
MEREDITH,     GEORGE,     Amazing 

Marriage,  131. 
Bea^lchamp'>s  Career,  149. 
Lord  Ormont  and  his  Aminta, 

132. 

Method  of  pure  exposition,  20. 
Methods,  scientific,  26. 


MEYNELL,  ALICE,  The  Rhythm  of 

Life,  25. 
Minnows,  91. 
MONTGOMERY,  J.,  definition  of 

prayer,  43. 
Moss,     MARY,      The    Novels    of 

Thomas  Hardy,  203. 
Mrs.   Brookfield  and  her   Circle, 

Brookfield,  28. 

N   • 

Napoleon  of  Netting  Hill,  Chester- 
ton, 26. 

Narration   for  purpose  of  exposi- 
tion, 128. 

Nation,  The,  107. 

National  Culture,  K.  Francke,  67. 

Neri,  St.  Philip,  109-112. 

Newcomes,  The,  184. 

NEWMAN,   CARDINAL,  Idea    of  a 

University,  109-112. 
Knowledge  and  Religious  Duty, 
44,  103. 

Newspaper,  126-128. 

Notes  on  Author,  192. 

Novels  of  Thomas  Hardy,  Moss,  204. 

Numbering  and  lettering  of  out- 
line, 60. 

O 

Oak,  Thoreau's  description  of,  114, 
Observation,  cultivation  of,  84. 
Ossian,  Macpherson,  22. 
Outline,  Final  order  of,  59. 

Numbering  parts  of,  60. 

On  Loach,  58. 

On  Mahomet,  99. 


INDEX 


2IS 


Outline  (continued}  — 
On  Silas  Marner,  177. 
Parallel  phrasing  in,  60. 
Subjects  for,  64. 
Topics,  not  sentences,  in,  60. 
Working  order,  57. 


Partition,  51. 

Pater,  Walter,  Benson's  characteri- 
zation of,  190. 

PATER,  WALTER,    Charles   Lamb, 

38,  145,  146. 
Marius,  122. 
Style,  71,  145. 

Patmore,  Coventry,  Gosse,  113. 

PECKHAM,  Wasps,  24. 

Periodical  Essayists,  Hazlitt,  172. 

Peter  Bell,  Wordsworth,  96. 

Phelps-Stokes,  36,  41. 

Philistine,  118. 

Philosophy  of  Style,  Spencer,  106. 

Plan,   mechanical  means  of  indi- 
cating, 66. 

Plate,  Ruskin's  exposition  on,  14. 

POE,   E.   A.,   Estelle  Ann   Lewis, 

161. 
Lowell,  1 60. 

Poetry  and  the  Individual,  H.  B. 
Alexander,  48. 

Poetry  of  a  Machine  Age,  Lee,  1 16. 

Poets  of  the  Younger  Generation, 
Archer,  157. 

Ponkapog  Papers,  Aldrich,  115. 

Poor  Relations,  Lamb,  39. 

Portraits  of  Seventeenth   Century, 
Sainte-Beuve,  163. 


Prairies,  Whitman,  46. 
Preliminary  Analysis,  50-64. 
Presentation,  79-95. 

Definition  of,  79. 

Interest  of,  83. 

Interpretative,  122-136. 

Of  abstract  subjects,  82. 

Of  process,  example,  87-90. 

Reporter's  method,  80. 

Requirements  of,  84. 

Scientific  method,  81. 

Subject-matter,  83. 
Process,  example  of  interpretation 
of,  126-128. 

Example     of    presentation     of, 

87-90. 

Processes  of  exposition,  31-76. 
Purpose  of  exposition,  19. 


Race  power,  Woodberry,  53. 
Reading  for   criticism   of  author, 

191. 

What  to  look  for,  192. 
Relation    of  Literature    to    Life, 

Warner,  184. 
REMBRANDT'S  JacoVs  Dream,  1 14. 
Reporter's  method,  79,  80. 
Requirements,  General,  of  Literary 

Criticism,  139-207. 
Rhythm  of  Life,  Alice  Meynell,  25. 
Richards,  Mr.,  Wells's  criticism  of 

autobiography  of,  164. 
Riches,  38. 

RIVES,  AMELIE,  Flittermouse,  131. 
Roderick  Hudson,  Henry  James,  21. 
Rome,  101. 


2l6 


INDEX 


ROOSEVELT,    Wilderness  Hunter, 

22. 
RUSKIN,  JOHN,  14,  43,  68. 


SAINTE-BEUVE,  Portraits  of  the 
Seventeenth  Century,  163. 

Salaries  of  Congressmen,  The  Na- 
tion, 107. 

School  of  the  Woods,  Long,  13. 

Scientific  definition,  35. 

Scientific  methods,  Huxley,  26. 

Scientific  presentation,  Si. 

Scotch  and  English  youth,  Steven- 
son on,  61-64. 

Scott,  202. 

Searchlight,  29. 

SEDGWICK,  H.  D.,  Essays  on  Great 
Writers,  202. 

Self-Reliance,  Emerson,  73. 

Sense  of  state,  wanting  in  Ameri- 
cans, 49. 

Seton,  Ernest  Thompson,  129. 

Seven  Little  Sisters,  Andrews,  129. 

Sevigne,  Mme.  de,  style  of,  163. 

Seville,  Symons,  101. 

Shakespeare,  William,  19,  162. 

SHAKESPEARE,  WILLIAM,  Merchant 
of  Venice,  47. 

Sharp,  William,  87. 

SHAW,  BERNARD,  Man  and  Super- 
man, 45. 

Shelley,  Arnold,  73. 

SHIPLEY  and  MACBRIDE,  Zoology, 

33- 

Silas  Marner,  outline  of,  177. 
SINCLAIR,  UPTON,  The  Jungle,  1 30. 


Sir    Roger    de    Coverley    Papers, 
Hazlitt's  recapitulation  of,  1 72. 
Snow-Bound,  Whittier,  95. 
Specimen  Days,  Whitman,  46. 
SPENCER,  HERBERT,  Philosophy  of 

Style,  1 06. 

Spenser,  Lowell,  155. 
Squirrel,  Gray,  description  of,  81. 
Stevenson,  Robert  Louis,  Professor 
Genung's  characterization  of, 
205-207. 
STEVENSON,  ROBERT  Louis,  Dr. 

Jekyll  and  Mr.  Hyde,  169. 
Familiar   Stiidies  of  Men  and 

Books,  196. 

Foreigner  at  Home,  The,  6 1. 
Humble  Remonstrance,  A,  73. 
Memories  and  Portraits,  188. 
Talk  and  Talkers,  69. 
STILLMAN,  WILLIAM  J.,  The  Auto- 
biography of  a  Journalist,  159. 
STONE  and  CRAM,  American  Ani- 
mals, 81. 
Story,  amplification  of  the  theme 

of,  169. 

Criticism  of,  168-186. 
Detailed  narration  of,  170. 
Key  of,  169. 
Method  of  telling  dependent  on 

nature  of,  171. 
Recapitulation  of  incidents  in, 

172. 

Spirit  of,  173. 
Theme  of,  169. 
Themes  for,  181. 

Studies  in  Contemporary  Biogra- 
phy, Bryce,  131. 
I 


INDEX 


217 


Studies  in  Prose  and  Verse,  Sy- 

mons,  155. 

Study  of  author,  order  for,  195. 
Study      of     National      Culture, 

Francke,  67. 

Study  of  Poetry,  Arnold,  42. 
Style,  criticism  of,  145. 

Description    of   Carlyle's,    148, 

149. 

Style,  Pater,  71,  145. 
Subject-matter,  of  exposition,  13, 

15- 

Of  interpretation,  97. 

Of  presentation,  83. 
Summary,  as  related  to  analysis,  52. 

Value  of,  53. 
Surprise  in  a  story,  171. 
SYMONS,  ARTHUR,  Seville,  101. 

Studies  in  Prose  and  Verse,  155. 
Synonyms,  33. 

Approximate,  39. 


Talk  and  Talkers,  Stevenson,  69. 
TATUM,  ANNA,  113. 
TENNYSON,  Flower   in  the  Cran- 
nied Wall,  96. 
Terms,  in  exposition,  15. 
THACKERAY  on  Dickens's  Christ- 
mas Carol,  175. 
Themes,  for    criticisms,  1 88,   190, 

196. 

For  stories,  181. 
Sir  Walter  Besant's,  1 79. 
Thirst,  description  of,  James,  21. 
Thompson,     Charles     Miner,     on 
Alice  Brown,  187. 


Thoreau,   Burroughs's  characteri- 
zation of,  144. 
THOREAU,  Carlyle,  148. 

Journal,  114. 
Tone  of  criticism,  151. 
Torch,  The,  G.  E.  Woodberry,  53. 
TORREY,  BRADFORD,  The  Clerk  of 

the  Woods,  25. 
Transitions,  69. 

Unobtrusive,  70. 
TURNER,  Slave  Ship,  61. 
Tutor,  characterization  of,  132. 
Twain,  Mark,  161. 
Type,  description  of,  14. 

Related  to  exposition,  14. 

U 

Ugly  Duckling,  134. 


VAN    DYKE,    HENRY,    Tennyson, 

157- 

VAN  DYKE,  JOHN  C.,  Art  for  Arfs 
Sake,  22,  72. 

W 

WALTON,  IZAAK,  Complete  Angler, 
65. 

Warner,  C.  D.,  Matthews's  Criti- 
cism of,  1 80. 

WARNER,  C.  D.,  Relation  of  Liter- 
ature to  Life,  184. 

Wasps,  Peckham,  24. 

WATTS-DUNTON,  AYLWIN,  20,  21, 
27. 

Web  of  Life,  Herrick,  169. 

Wellesley  College  Magazine,  1 14. 


2l8 


INDEX 


WELLS,  H.  G.,  Future  in  America, 

48,  164-166. 

In  the  Days  of  the  Comet,  1 26-1 28. 
WHITMAN,  WALT,  Specimen  Days, 

46. 

WHITTIER,  Snow-Bound,  95. 
Wilderness  Hunter,  Roosevelt,  22. 
WOODBERRY,    G.    E.,     Nathaniel 

Hawthorne,  183. 
The  Torch,  53. 


Wordsworth,  William,  Arnold's 
characterization  of,  205. 

WORDSWORTH,  WILLIAM,  Peter 
Bell,  96. 

Work,  John  Ruskin,  68. 


Zoology,  91. 

ZUEBLIN,  CHARLES,  A  Decade  of 
Civic  Development,  75. 


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of  poems,  which  are  preceded  by  brief  biographical  sketches, 
designed  to  entertain  and  awaken  interest.  The  explanatory 
notes  and  the  brief  critical  comments  give  much  useful  and 
interesting  information. 


MANUAL   OF  AMERICAN   LITERATURE,  go. 60 

By  JAMES  B.  SMILEY,  A.M.,  Assistant  Principal  of 
Lincoln  High  School,  Cleveland,  Ohio 


THE  aim  of  this  little  manual  is  simply  to  open  the  way 
to  a  study  of  the  masterpieces  of  American  literature. 
The  treatment  is  biographical  rather  than  critical,  as 
the  intention  is  to  interest  beginners  in  the  lives  of  the  great 
writers,  and  thus  to  encourage  a  freer  and  less  mechanical 
study  of  their  works.  Although  the  greatest  space  has  been 
devoted  to  the  most  celebrated  writers,  attention  is  also  di- 
rected to  authors  prominent  in  the  early  history  of  our 
country,  and  to  a  few  writers  whose  books  are  enjoying  the 
popularity  of  the  moment.  Suggestions  for  reading,  both 
with  reference  to  each  author's  works  and  along  biographical 
lines,  appear  at  the  end  of  the  chapters. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


